Turn Out The Lights, Turn Up The Volume
by CrystalGemMaker
Summary: Being in the bad part of town, a dingy apartment, and having a low paying job is fine. But falling for your dangerous neighbor isn't. Especially when you're engaged. And happy. And supposedly uninterested. AU. ButchxBubbles.
1. Prologue

_Turn Out The Light, Turn Up The Volume_

----

Another unsuccessful night at pool. I swear if Boomer can't make up a good reason for why he sucks so much I'll rip him a new one for making me lose so much money. I mean, what kind of guy can't play pool? And he's my brother no less.

Embarrassing…

I sighed and stepped out into the night. The sounds from the bar behind me were familiar but annoying as my head pounded. Thankfully the smell of smoke slowly drifted away from my nose as I breathed in the fresh air around me. Maybe I was sick. The smell of smoke never made my head reel like this before.

"Three-hundred dollars," I muttered darkly. I'd lost three-hundred dollars because Boomer couldn't get the damn eight ball in the hole. We'd gone in aiming to hustle a few guys and in turn got hustled ourselves. I swore lowly as I shook my head.

I shook my head again, feeling disgusted with myself. And Boomer. But mostly myself.

If I didn't have such a short temper I could've still been inside, winning my money back, but as it were I had to excuse myself to keep from pounding the jackasses that beat us. I was edgy and I knew it.

Maybe I was _really_ sick. I mean, I never had_ this_ short of a temper before. I'd always been quick to throw a punch but not for losing.. And now I did and it was all making my head pound with pain and slight anger.

"Three-hundred dollars," I repeated, taking a step out into the parking lot, further away from the door where a rough looking chick had just stepped out to take a drag f her cigarette in peace. She winked at me and I gave her what I hoped was a small smile but I knew wasn't much more then a grimace.

I began to walk out to the streets, my head feeling slightly better with every step I took. I looked up at the sky, the skyscrapers above me blocked out the moon and the stars were almost impossible to due to the city lights. I frowned.

Maybe I could hold up a convenient store real quick and get my money back. Plus some.

Yeah, that seemed to be a good idea. I was short on cash and could use the extra dough. Besides, I hadn't done a felony in about a month (maybe a bit more) and I was overdue. The thrill might do me some good, ease my headache a little.

I looked around at the shops. Most had closed up for the night…or morning. It was around three a.m. and most people had already retired. But down at the corner a sign still glowed and I walked towards it, my head feeling decidedly better and my temper quelling itself.

It must've been the bar that made me feel so sick. Sometimes places like that just get to me for no particular reason. I just…suddenly can't stand the idiots in it and have to leave. That must've been it. Even though I felt like I had a chill as well.

The bell above the door rang as I opened it, the bright fluorescent lights hurting my eyes. I walked in and went to an aisle, pretending to look at the magazines that were displayed while I checked around me out of the corner of my eyes.

It was just me and the clerk.

I grinned, liking my odds. Usually I could handle more people but tonight I was feeling off and I liked the easiness of my upcoming heist. I looked at the old man behind the counter, his eyes were drooping with sleep but he watched me closely, undoubtedly sensing the trouble that was coming.

"Can I help you?" The man asked, obviously feeling I had looked long enough at the magazines. I turned towards him and walked with my hands shoved in my pockets towards the register, my fingertips brushed idly at the gun embedded deep in my jeans.

The clerk watched me calmly.

"Have a busy day?" I asked casually, trying to judge how much money was in the register. The man's pale brown eyes narrowed.

"No," He said and his face grew tight as I laughed. He didn't seem to like my laugh.

"Too bad," I shrugged. I wasn't usually one to talk, especially during a heist, but the bright lights were making my head pound again I tried to ignore the pain by distracting myself. And talking was always a distraction.

"So, what can I help you with?" The man seemed eager for me to leave and I couldn't exactly blame him. I knew I still reeked of alcohol and smoke from the bar, even though I hadn't drank enough to be drunk and had barely taken a drag. And I also knew what my dark hair, cold eyes, and collected face usually did to people. It scared them. Badly.

Yes, I didn't blame him for wanting me to leave. But my head was pounding and I had to focus on something. Robbing him seemed to be as good as anything else.

"Did you hear me-" Halfway through his sentence the bell rang again and I turned quickly to see who had entered.

A blonde girl walked into the store, her hair messy and pulled back. She was frowning slightly, muttering to herself as she walked towards a shelf, oblivious of the hostility that was about to happen around her.

I sighed, annoyed, removing my hand from my pockets, my figertips still cool from the metal of my gun.

Tonight just wasn't my night.

"Where's your lottery tickets?" I asked the man, not even bothering to hide the barely controlled irritation that I was feeling. He pointed and I walked over to where they were, waiting for the girl to go and pay for her stuff. As long as she was here I might as well wait so I can get her money too.

"You believe in luck?" A voice asked and I turned my head slightly to see the blonde girl staring at me from where she stood in front of a shelf a few steps away from me. I glared at her but she didn't seem too put out and instead she just smiled. "Or are you just desperate?"

"_What_?" I bit out, annoyed at her already and my vision swirled slightly as the pain in my head increased.

"I don't know," The woman (she looked more like a girl) shrugged, her smile still wide and her disheveled hair slipping into her eyes. "I just figured most people who buy lottery tickets either believe in luck or are desperate for cash."

I looked away from her, deciding to ignore her and hoping she'd just go pay so I could hold up the store and get home. But she just laughed softly and I frowned at the sound. Was she laughing at _me_?

"I guess anyone who's out at three a.m is desperate for _something_," She continued, not taking the hint that I really didn't want to talk to her.

"What're _you_ desperate for?" I asked, turning to face her. I made my tone perverted and gave her a once over and a wink, hoping to scare her off. However the blonde just smiled, making me wonder if she even got what I was trying to imply.

Maybe she wasn't all there, like she had a screw loose in her head or something. It seemed likely.

She then pulled a small box off the shelf and held it out for me to see.

"Tylenol," She explained, laughing slightly at herself. "I've had a killer headache all day and I'm desperate."

"And so you came out to buy it at three a.m." I derived, ignoring the fact that Tylenol sounded really good about now.

"I've been up late trying to unpack," She continued and I wondered why she felt the need to elaborate. I didn't care why she was here or what she was buying. I just wanted her to pay so I could do my deed and leave. "Finally I decided to call it a night but my head was hurting too much. They say there's a virus going around with headaches, nausea, and dizziness. I'm worried I might have it."

I frowned, realizing that virus was exactly what I had. God, I hated being sick.

She didn't seem to care that I was quiet. "So then I realized I didn't have any medicine, or at least I hadn't unpacked it yet, so I had to go out and find some. Only, I'm new to this part of town and it took forever to find a store still open…"

She continued but I tuned her out, wondering if the ten dollars her purchase would be was really worth the increasingly painful headache her constant rambling was giving me.

"…and so I turned to the left and there was still no store…" She continued, oblivious to my growing frustration. I gritted my teeth, the pain above my eyes making me feel sick to my stomach. "…and the dog just kept barking…" I wanted to scream.

"Here," I snapped, making her clamp her mouth closed quickly in shock. I grabbed the box of pills form her hand and walked to the counter, practically slamming them down on the surface beside the register.

"Will that be all?" The clerk asked, his tone amused and his brown eyes dancing.

"Yes," I said lowly, making sure he remembered his previous fear of me.

He rang up the box just as I felt the blonde girl's presence next to me, her heat seeping through my hoodie and warming my arm, even though we weren't touching. I frowned. She must have a fever.

"That'll be thirteen dollars and forty-nine cents," The man said with a small smile at the girl beside me. I muttered something profane beneath my breath before slapping a twenty down on the counter.

"I have money," The blonde her said, her voice holding amazement at my actions. I just ignored her, slightly angered at how my night had turned around for the worse…again.

The man handed me my change and I tossed the box at the girl before stalking out, shoving my hands into my hoodie. The city around me was dark and I began walking towards my apartment, my head pounding and the last of my patience gone.

"Three-hundred, thirteen dollars and forty-nine cent," I mumbled to myself, counting up my losses.

"Hey!" A voice called and I ground my teeth together and quickened my pace slightly. "Hey, wait up!"

The blonde girl ran up until she reached my side, my pace not once slowing down. She fell into step beside me, panting slightly from her short jog. What was she, a lost puppy?

"Thanks," She said once she caught her breath and I kept my eyes firmly ahead of me, eager for my bed and some sleep. She didn't seem to mind me ignoring her too much. "I mean, _I _could've paid for it, but it was really nice of you to."

It was quiet for a minute and I wondered briefly how long she was going to follow me but I didn't really care. She could do as she wished as long as she didn't start to annoy me again.

"I'd offer you some, but…" She trailed off and I saw her shrug out of the corner of my eye, looking down at the Tylenol box in her hand.

"I just need two," I said and she seemed startled that I had talked. And then she realized what I had said and her eyes widened a little.

"Oh, okay!" She smiled, carefully opening the box in her hand and ripping two tablet packets off. She held them out and I took them, my finger's brushing her palm for a short second and she jolted. "I think you have a fever," She said, sounding slightly worried.

"Do these help that?" I asked, not really caring but asking anyway. I could handle a fever and a headache without medicine if I needed to, I'd done it before.

She read the box. "Yepp! It says here that these reduce fevers!" I just nodded slightly, ripping open the packet and swallowing the tablets. She watched me, seemingly astounded. "You don't need a drink with that?" She asked after I sent her a harsh glare for staring.

"No," I said shortly. Who did this girl think she was? First she ruined my heist, then she annoyed me to a point of severe pain, and now she won't go away. If she was a boy I'd cuff her ears for just one of those things.

It was quiet for a while and we both kept walking. At every available turn that she _didn't_ take I wondered exactly when she was going to stop following me. I mean, she had no idea who I was for God's sake. Who followed a stranger in the dead of the night?

"It's a pretty night," She said, sighing up at the sky. I didn't pay her any heed, remembering that the stars and moon were impossible to see. What was so nice about it? "When I was little I use to look for shooting stars at night." I wanted to tell her that she was annoying, and that you couldn't see shooting stars in the city, but I kept my mouth closed.

Was she lost? I frowned at that. It was possible, especially if she was new to this part of town like she said. I looked around at the rundown buildings, the graffiti, and the occasional bullet hole in the concrete or glass.

This wasn't exactly the part of town you should be lost in. Especially if you were a girl.

"Do you know how to get home?" I asked, my voice dull and bored, fatigue catching up to me. A side affect from the pills maybe?

She glanced around.

"Yeah," She laughed softly. "I'm pretty sure." She turned and looked at me and I glanced down at her from the corner of my eye. "Do you know where Muskeg Street is? My apartment is near there." I noticed she had blue eyes.

"Keep going straight and turn left by the old theatre; you'll see the street sign from there." I replied, thinking of all the apartment complexes around Muskeg Street. I lived near there too and the idea of walking with this talkative girl the whole way there made my fading headache pound a bit more. I had to ditch her. "Later," I said quickly before turning down a random street. I knew another way home. It would take longer but I didn't care.

"Oh, bye!" The girl yelled after me, sounding startled at my sudden departure but thankfully she didn't follow me. "Thanks again!"

I said nothing, just continued down the alley I had gone down, my hands warm in the pocket of my cotton hoodie. I kicked a beer bottle out of my way and watched dully as it ricocheted off a nearby wall and hit a metal trashcan loudly.

I was too tired to try and rob another store. I'd have to get my money another way tomorrow. I sighed at that pathetic thought and walked a bit quicker, wanting to make it home before my body fell asleep without my consent.

When had I got so tired?

_Damn pills._

"Hey sweetheart," A woman called from where she stood on a corner, her fish-net stockings were torn and her makeup was caked on to cover a bruise on her cheek. "Want a wild night?" She asked, her voice low and husky.

I just ignored her, looking her over in a bored manner but not stopping.

I'd already blown over three-hundred dollars that night, I wasn't about to go in debt for a quick lay. Even if it would calm my nerves a bit. I shook my head and continued walking, my mind slow with sleep and my head feeling better from the pills.

---

_Favela Apartments…_

A baby was crying, I could hear it through the thin walls as I walked down the hall. My apartment building was crowded and cheap, the lights flickered occasionally and everything looked dirty and inexpensive. But the rent was good and affordable and the people here made the best with what they got.

I stopped at my door, the '6' in my '16' had been stolen the week after I'd moved in here…and that'd been forever ago. And so I was in room '1', even if you could still see the outline in the door from where the six was supposed to be.

The smell of the apartment building was stale and the lights flickered as I dug the key out of my pocket.

I sighed and shoved my key into the lock and it clicked open after a hard turn. The baby wailed louder and I realized it was from the Anderson's apartment and I looked down the hall at their door, knowing everyone else was trying to sleep with that insufferable noise. But I knew we'd all grown used to sleeping through such noises. You had to.

I noticed a few boxes stacked outside the apartment next to mine and I frowned. It seemed my new neighbors had moved in while I was at work. I opened my door and walked in, not bothering to turn the lights on. Even though my fever had subsided the light would only annoy me.

I listened for a minute, trying to hear any sounds coming from the neighboring apartment. There was a slight shuffle but no talking and thankfully no baby cries. I smiled a bit at this, hoping for an older couple that wouldn't cause too much racket.

Shaking my head, I walked towards my bedroom, avoiding taking a shower in hopes of getting a few hours of sleep. There was no more shuffling from the new neighbors and I shrugged out of my hoodie and fell onto my bed.

I'd meet them soon enough.

-----

_If you suffer your people to be ill-educated, and their manners corrupted from infancy, and then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed them, what else is to be concluded, sire, but that you first make thieves and then punish them?_

_-Ever After_

----

**No, I'm not giving up on 'If You Scream For Adventure'**

**I just **_**love**_** Butch and Bubbles and had to get some ideas out. This was originally going to be a one-shot but while writing it I realized I wanted to continue. Hope you don't mind. I know nothing really happened but it'll get better!**

**Thanks so much for reading!**


	2. Hush, Little Baby

**A/N: This story will alternate, every chapter, between Bubble's and Butch's POV. **

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_I walked across the lawn. The grass, short and neatly trimmed, was soft against my bare feet as I walked away from the crowd of looming adults. All the women smelled of thick perfume and had fake smiles and the men smelled of expensive cigars and their eyes were greedy._

_I was relieved to be away from them, to be far from their watchful eyes and catty talking._

"_Bubbles, don't go too far," I heard and I turned in time to see my father turn back to the conversation. I smiled and nodded although he was no longer paying attention and I continued before my nanny saw me and called me back._

_I stepped quickly around a carefully trimmed bush in order to disappear from sight and then stopped to look at the expanse of grass before me. All the bright green leaves led up to the rod iron fence that blocked me in. I stared at the barrier from a distance, watching it as if it would melt with my glance. _

_Outside the fence were other houses, just as big and extravagant as my own. But a few miles, past the country club and the gated fences, I knew there was a city. A big one, with tall buildings and loud noises. A place without gorgeous lawns and buildings without extravagant parties every night. _

_I sighed and walked towards the fence, towards the cage and one of my hands came up to grip the bars, my small fingers wrapping around the cool metal. My other hand held fast to my ratty teddy bear, its stuffed limb indented by my tight grip. _

"_Bubbles, don't go too close to the gate," I heard my nanny's voice but I didn't turn around, my face remaining pressed against the metal bars. "Bubbles, you know you're not aloud to go off the property without your father's permission." _

_I looked away from the brick house across the street and down at the ground, my bare feet suddenly interesting and the dirty hem of my dress catching my attention. I blinked, wondering if the woman behind me would go away but knowing she wouldn't._

"_Bubbles!" I spun fast, my free hand swiping at my eyes and stopping the tear trailing down my face. My nanny just sighed, used to the sight of me crying. She always told me that for a four year old I'd already cried enough for ten lifetimes._

_A baby, that's what she always called me._

"_What now?" She asked, reaching out her hand and I took it out of habit, clutching it and sniffing slightly. She pulled me along behind her, back to the party, back to the looming parents. _

_I didn't know why I was crying but for some reason I couldn't stop. I buried my face into the back of her worn dress in an attempt to stop. A futile attempt. _

"_I want to go the city," I mumbled to her, my blonde hair falling into my eyes but I didn't have a free hand to brush it away. My teddy bear dragged against the grass._

"_You're not allowed to go to the city," My nanny said without hesitation, used to telling me what I could and couldn't do. _

"_But I just want to see it," I said, my voice getting excited and my tears stopping. "I've only seen it once."_

"_You aren't allowed in the city," She said again and I just gripped her hand tighter, trying to get her to look back at me. Trying to get her to understand. _

"_Please, I just want to see it," I said. "The tall buildings and the yellow cars. I want to go there, just one more time. There were trains underground there, did you know that? Trains you can ride underground!"_

_My nanny stopped and I collided into the back of her legs, not expecting her to stop, not really thinking she had been listening. She turned and let go of my hand, her knees cracking as she knelt down before me. Her dark eyes met mine squarely._

"_If you love it so much, maybe one day you'll live there," She said and I knew that she wasn't serious. She never for a second thought I'd ever set foot in that city unless given permission. Girls that lived where I lived, girls with money and backgrounds like mine, they never lived in the city. My nanny knew this, and she smiled at this._

_I was the daughter of the richest, most famous scientist in all of Townsville._

_I would never live in the city._

"_Bubbles!" Blossom called, her pink dress and pink bow blowing in the wind from where she stood with the rest of the young children. She waved at me and I waved back, my nanny standing back up to guide me back to the other children. _

"_Maybe someday I will live in the city," I said._

"_Hmm?" My nanny asked, sending a questioning look back at me over her shoulder. She looked away when I didn't answer, immediately forgetting that I had spoke. _

"_I will," I promised myself. Why? Because I was young and my dreams had no limits._

----

I woke up, feeling better but still sick.

My fever made me sweat. My sweat made my skin slick and I felt disgusting. I moaned and shifted against my mattress, my body finally fully waking up and my eyes opening to the dreary morning light.

I had been up late, very late, on a medicine search but it had been worth it to feel my headache fade and my nausea to ease away. I sat up and realized that my virus must be finally on its last stretch because my body was less drained.

I stood and stretched a bit but when I went to take a step I fell flat on my face. I had to laugh a bit at my own stupidity. I kicked the box that I'd tripped over a bit from where I laid on the ground.

"Three more boxes," I said happily, tugging at my damp shirt to keep it from sticking to my back. I rose to my feet and smiled. I'd been unpacking sense yesterday and still I hadn't finished but I was almost done.

I gazed around at my new apartment. My new home.

The walls were a dreary gray and thin enough so that I could hear the neighbor's muffled talking on one side. But in the apartment on the other side, the neighbor seemed to be quiet or not at home because I hadn't seen anyone go in or out of the door since I arrived yesterday. And there wasn't any sounds coming from the apartment. Maybe it was empty?

But I didn't mind the thin walls. I didn't mind the noises of the city. And I didn't mind my cramped new home.

I didn't really mind any of it.

My sisters, both of them, said I wouldn't make it on my own. They said I'd move back home with my father before then end of the week.

But they were wrong.

I could be by myself. I could. Even if the living arrangements were less then desirable I would do this on my own. I'd get a job, pay my rent, and have fun doing it! Who says being broke had to be dull?

The phone rang as I stood looking at a certain dirt stain on my ceiling and I quickly jumped over a box to get it. The apartment, my apartment, was small so I reached the phone in a few short steps.

"Hello," I said giddily. "Congratulations on being the first caller at my new home!" There was a snort of laughter on the other end.

"You're so weird Bubbles," Came a calm, humor laced voice.

"Blossom!" I smiled to myself, flopping down onto my small couch.

"How's moving in going? Do you need any help?" My sister asked and I twisted my hair around my finger while contemplating.

I could say yes and then she'd come over and I'd have company…but then she'd see my new apartment and she'd freak. She would drag me from the building like a kid throwing a tantrum and I'd never see my new home again.

I sighed. "No, everything's practically done," I breathed into the phone. "The movers helped with the heavy stuff and I'm about to put the dishes away now." I paused. "It's actually pretty nice here."

"Sure it is," Blossom laughed and then her tone turned serious. "Bubbles, you're basically in the slums. I'm worried about you, something could happen. Just come and stay with me for a while." She offered and I was already shaking my head even though she couldn't see me.

"No," I replied, my tone firm but still friendly. "I'll be fine, I swear! Dad offered me the same thing and I said no. And then he offered to get me an apartment uptown but I _have _to do this on my own, you know? Besides, I want to live here."

"But it's dangerous," She tried to reason.

"No, it's not. Well…no more dangerous than anywhere else," Her side was quiet for a moment. "Blossom, I have to do this. I've lived at home my whole life. You and Buttercup have been moved out for a year now and it's my turn."

"But you could've just taken Dad's money," Blossom said, her tone resigned but she still continued. "That way you'd be on your own _and_ have a decent place to live. I mean, there are other places in the city to live besides there."

"But I _have_ to do this on my own. I've depended on Dad my whole life, now it's time to depend on myself," I heard her begin to say something but I quickly cut her off. "In a few months I'll be married, Blossom. And then I'll be out of here and under the support of Andy. Don't you see? My whole life will be other people taking care of me. For once I need to take care of myself."

She was quiet. And finally: "Fine. But if you ever need something I'm only a phone call away."

"I know," I laughed. "_Don't worry_. I'm going to a job interview later today and then I'll be set. The rent here is practically nothing so I'll have plenty extra cash for food and other necessities."

"Just be careful, you aren't used to living in anything but luxury."

I pouted. "I'm not spoiled, I can take care of myself!"

"I know, okay? I love you." Blossom said and I could hear her boyfriend come in and call out her name. "I got to go." She said and I heard his voice again and smiled. They were adorable together.

"Okay, bye!"

_Click._

I put down the phone and looked around my apartment again. No, it wasn't what I was used to but that was okay. It was only temporary and I'd be fine. I'm always fine. Bsides this is what I wanted.

I moved to the bathroom. The other boxes would have to wait. I needed a shower and a new change of clothes. After all, you can't show up all sweaty and gross to a job interview.

---

"Bubbles Utonium?" The man questioned, his bald head gleaming with sweat.

"Yes?" I asked politely. He looked me over with interest.

"Are you here for the interview?" He asked. I nodded but before I could talk he began again. "Congratulations, you start tomorrow."

"W-what?" I asked, confused. He seemed bored with me already though, and he looked down at the clip board in his hands.

"You're the only applicant, congratulations. You work from eight in the morning to seven at night and you'll get about four dollars an hour," He recited mechanically, not even bothering to look up.

I gaped at him. Four dollars? "Do I get tips?" I asked and he looked around the small diner we were in, looking at the ratty booths and the ancient jukebox. He smiled mockingly, his eyes laughing.

"Honey, if you get a tip you can keep it, but don't expect any. People around here a pretty tight for money," He explained and I blinked slightly. "So, how about it? You still want the job or not?"

"Y-yes," I said quickly.

"Good," He sighed. "What size are you? For your uniform I mean."

"Oh, a large I guess," I said with a shrug. He looked at me, a bit startled. I was smaller then most but I hated to wear clingy clothes and usually tried to get a large size. "Do I get more then one uniform?"

"You get two, so keep 'em clean," He replied. "You'll be servin' a lot so wear comfortable shoes too." Here he eyed my black ballerina flats. "I'm just going to go get you your uniform."

He disappeared back into his office. I sighed and looked around the small diner, slightly apprehensive. A waitress? What was I thinking? I was a natural klutz and this was just pushing my luck.

My thumb messed unconsciously with my engagement ring as I waited, the diamond was rough against the pads of my fingers. After two weeks of wearing it I still wasn't used to the feel.

The man, my boss, came back out and shoved a handful of tan cloth at me. I looked at the retro outfit carefully and bit back a sigh. The material was rough and worn and I knew I'd look horrible in it.

_Oh well, I'm not trying to impress anyone._

"There you go," He nodded. "Make sure you pin your hair back and…here." He handed me a nametag, small and cool against my palm. I looked down at it and blinked with confusion.

"This says 'Betty'," I said, staring down at the name on the tag.

"So?" He asked, obviously done with me.

"My name isn't Betty," I tried to explain but he was already writing something on his clipboard and walking back towards his office.

"There's no point in making a new name tag until I'm sure I'm not going to fire you," He said before his door shut behind him, leaving me alone in the diner. I frowned at the closed door and shook my head.

I looked down at the nametag in my hand and sighed.

So, until I prove myself….I'm Betty.

I laughed and walked out of the diner, my uniform in my arms and my new name on my mind.

----

"I wish you would've just moved in with Blossom," Andy said as we sat in the center of Ginza Sushiko, Andy's favorite restaurant. I looked up from my menu and smiled at him. "I'd feel better."

"I know, but I'll be moving in with _you_ in a few months," I laughed, giving him a teasing glare. "Once we're married. Until then I'm going to try the adult thing and live on my own."

My fiancée smiled at me. He looked dazzling in his nice Armani suit and shiny watch, surrounded by the lavish furniture and nice lighting. His blonde hair was parted and he'd obviously just got out of work. His hazel eyes watched me ardently and made me smile at him. He was a winner, a really cute guy.

He was just so sweet. So considerate. He was the kind of guy who favored opera over a football game, wine over beer, pink over red, and fine cuisine over take out. And no, he wasn't gay. (Although Buttercup said otherwise.) He was raised by one of the most classy, elegant women in town who drilled manners and the importance of self image into his brain at a young age. Things such as that were important in life.

And I knew Andy was considerate because he had a strong bond with his mother. I sometimes didn't understand their relationship because I didn't have a mother of my own. Sometimes I felt out of place when they were talking.

But he never meant for me to feel out of place.

And I was lucky to have him.

At times I wondered what about me caught his eye. He was just so nice, so safe. And soon we'd be married and the calm, comfortable life I was raised to have…would be ours.

And that's what I wanted.

_Really._

"So today my boss called me in to see him," Andy said as he pushed the bowel of burnt food away from him. "He wanted to ask me something."

"Did something bad happen?" I asked, only half-listening while I scanned the menu. I found myself doing a lot lately when Andy talked about work, which was bad. I was raised to listen intently when people spoke but most of the conversations growing up had been so boring I'd always zoned out. I guess it had become a habit.

"He asked me to play tennis with him at the country club this Saturday," Andy grinned, obviously very proud.

I beamed, happy at his achievement. I'd lived around people like Andy and his boss my whole life; I knew how good tennis at the country club sounded to the rest of the co-workers.

"Congratulations!" I said, smiling wholeheartedly. My eyes were trained on his perfect face. "That's great, maybe you'll get promoted to the vice-president like you've been talking about."

"I'm hoping so, but he wants you to come as well." I sent him a questioning look. "He's bringing his wife and it'd look nice if you came as well. I think he wants to meet you. You are the daughter of the most famous scientist in all of Townsville."

I blushed and looked down at the table. I knew how much appearances meant, but I didn't want to ruin this promotion for Andy. What if I said something stupid? Or accidentally beamed the boss's wife with a tennis ball?

As if reading my thoughts, Andy sent me a sympathetic look. Andy always handled me with the utmost care, sometimes even treating me like a child when he wasn't paying attention to his tone of voice. A lot of people treated me like a child though, so I was used to it and had learned to ignore it.

"You'll be fine," He assured me. "Gee whiz Bubbles, you're the nicest girl I've met. Just dress nice, be polite, and remember to pay attention. You'll be fine. You've had all the proper training when it comes to luncheons and things like this."

"I know," I laughed, speaking over my nerves. I remembered my governess and the years of manner lessons I'd had. But was that enough? "Who knows? Maybe I'll even win the tennis match."

Andy stood up, leaning over the small table to place a kiss on my forehead. I felt his cool lips and leaned my head back to receive one on my lips as well but he had already pulled back and had placed his napkin gently next to his spot.

"You know you can't beat him, dear," He said as he smiled. "That would look bad."

"I know."

"I have to use the restroom; I'll be right back okay?" He asked, his tone airy like I was child. I ignored this and nodded. "I love you."

I nodded again.

"I love you too," I said, avoiding his eyes suddenly and looking back down at the menu. I always felt awkward saying this. Blossom said it was because I was afraid to let him close, but I wasn't sure. But Blossom was usually right so I went with it.

I mean, I was slightly nervous that each time he said he loved me, he would realize it wasn't true and then he'd leave me. And I'd make my father the laughing stock of the country club.

But most of the time I was afraid I wasn't the one who meant it when I said it. I mean, how can you be sure if you're in love or not?

I sighed, who cares? I was in love, I had to be. Andy was perfect and we'd be happy together, for the rest of our lives. We both liked the same things and enjoyed being with each other. It'd work out. We'd be married in a classy church and be talked about as the perfect couple for years.

When he came back we ordered and our food came shortly after. The meals were expensive and not quite my taste but I bared it for Andy's sake. I knew he loved eating there.

"I'm learning to cook in my new apartment," I informed him after a lull of silence.

"That's okay pumpkin, when we're married we'll have cooks," He assured me and my grin faltered slightly.

"But I want to learn to cook…" I trailed off and looked at my plate, feeling childish.

"Maybe one of our cooks will give you lessons," He assured me. "You know, once you have _this _all out of your system."

The 'this' he was referring to was my new apartment. My recent move.

I knew what he thought. I knew what everyone thought.

They thought I was a silly little girl who wanted to play house for a little while. But they all knew the moment anything went wrong I'd pack up and move back in with my dad. My little brave fantasy wouldn't last long.

But they were wrong.

I could live on my own. I could stand on my own two feet. I wasn't a little girl anymore and I was out to prove it. I was going to show the country club and the rest of the upper-class world that I wasn't going to roll over so easily. I was going to endure.

"So this Saturday…" Andy began and I had already tuned out.

I thought about tennis on Saturday and I closed my eyes in annoyance, not looking forward to having to make small talk with the boss's wife the whole time.

I grimaced, that was a horrible thought. I should be more supportive of Andy. I owed it to him as his fiancée to be at all his work functions and things such as that. It looked bad if a man went somewhere public like a dinner party without his future wife. It made people talk.

And people that talked was a bad thing. Especially rich people. Because from my life's experience, rich people's talking was usually gossip, which was usually mean, which usually leads to people being shunned from the social scene.

"Tennis on Saturday," I said to myself like a chant. "_Fun_."

---

A police siren went off nearby as I sat on my bed, my hair wet and my clothes baggy and clean. My window was open and I sighed as I listened to the siren as I whizzed by my new apartment building and faded into the night.

I rested my chin against my knees and I looked down at my toes as I wiggled them.

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word.  
Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird,"

I sang the words softly, my tone hesitant and my voice cracking with my bad singing voice. I imagined my father's voice when I was a child, his low tones singing to me as I drifted to sleep.

"And if that mockingbird won't sing,  
Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring,"

I looked around my apartment, feeling slightly lonely but at the same time…free.

"And if that diamond ring turns brass,  
Papa's gonna buy you a looking glass…"

I stopped, my body becoming still. I sniffed the air and immediately stood up from the bed, walking quickly to my kitchen area.

"Oh, no!" I moaned as I pulled the oven open and smoke pooled from the inside. My brownies still remained in the furnace and I cringed as the smoke hit my eyes, making them water. "Oh, no."

I grabbed a rag and waved it in an attempt to spread the smoke away. "Come on!"

My first meal in my new apartment was…a disaster.

It seems I might need those cooking lessons after.

A knock sounded at my door and I groaned, looking with distrust at the smoky oven. I'd never cooked before, and I'd never had to deal with a burning, well, _anything_, so with slight hesitation I turned and ran to my door. I hoped whoever was there had knowledge of how to handle brownie fires…and maybe had a fire extinguisher too.

-----

"_To stand still is to lose, To move is to gain, To change is to grow."_

-----

**Boring? Yes. But it's all for the sake of the building story, I promise. **

**Next chapter: Butch's POV!!!! That's my favorite for some reason. I love his character, he has so many possibilities. **

**Yes, this is a present to myself for finishing BWD! I hope you don't mind.**


	3. Break Stuff

I looked up at the engine above me, my practiced eyes searching to find what else was wrong with the damn car besides the brake pull. I checked the sway bar and sighed. Everything seemed to check out.

I slid out from beneath the car, the ceiling of the auto garage familiar to my eyes. The sounds of power tools did well to drown out the low hum of the radio. The calendar on the wall with pictures of practically bare women was a few months behind but that wasn't too unusual. Yes, everything was exactly as it always was.

I stood and looked around until I saw Harper, his shirt was already sweaty and his face serious as he looked at the car I'd been working on.

"Harper, the engine checks out," I called to him, brushing my hands against my jeans in a useless effort to get the grease to rub off of my palms. Harper, my boss, looked over at me and grunted to show he'd heard.

"Hey kid," He called to me as I turned to help the new guy change a fan belt. I whipped the dark hair from my eyes and walked up next to him and together we stared at the 1975 Buick Skylark I'd just been under. "What else?"

"It needs a tailgate window relay," I nodded at the vehicle. Harper just grunted again.

"How much is that gonna' cost me?" He asked, as he looked at me from the corner of his eye. He trusted me when it came to cars, he always had, not that he'd ever tell me that and I did well to pretend I didn't know.

When I was about ten years old I used to help him steal and strip cars, back when his business was all shady. Now it was a legitimate business…at least during the day, and I worked there whenever I could.

"Twelve dollars if we order it," I replied but I left the other option unsaid although I knew he wouldn't steel such a cheap part. Lately he'd only been stealing the top-dollar parts that were getting hard to come by.

"Twelve?" He muttered and then rolled his eyes. "Well, if it needs it, it needs it."

I nodded and went off the tell Jimmy to order the new part but suddenly Harper's hand grabbed my arm and halted me. I stopped and quickly shrugged the heavy hand from my shoulder as I looked back at him. His face was as calm and bored as I knew mine was. We must've looked like we were at a funeral with such sullen eyes.

"You heard about that 1993 Pontiac Sunbird I lifted last night?" He asked and I gave him a questioning look.

"Yeah," I said. "The new guy asked me to come show him how to repaint it. I figure we'll make it silver. Cops never notice silver cars," I shrugged, looking around the shop in a bored manner. "Where's it parked?"

"I don't want you to help out tonight," He said and my head snapped to look back at him, my eyes wide. "You heard me, kid. You're pale under all that grease, I know it. I don't need you puking all over the car. You're sick, get some rest tonight."

I sent him a scathing look but he knew me enough to ignore it.

"I'm fine," I said quickly, rubbing the back of my neck and undoubtedly spreading grease against it. "I've held up to today, right? I'll be fine."

"Get some sleep," He said dismissively before turning to walk over to another car.

"Listen man, I could use some extra dough," I said with a shrug. He paid me enough to cover my rent but I still wanted to get even with the sons of bitches that took my money the night at the bar. I hated losing. It was a fault, I know, but damn it if I hadn't lost a good amount of money.

"Get a cheaper hooker," He said mockingly and I sent him another cutting look but he just laughed. "What? Can't an old man joke anymore?"

I let out a few swear words under my breath but he heard and laughed again. "Can I get in or not?" I asked a bit impatiently, leaning my weight on one leg and looking at him dead in the eyes.

"No," He said easily before turning and walking away. I glared after him before turning to kick the wheel of the old skylark. My frustration rose up a bit and I shoved my hands in my jean pockets and stalked off to order the part we needed, ignoring my now sore toe.

I hated being dismissed like some damn three-year old.

Especially when I could've handled it.

---

"Ronny, you're a no good cheater!" Someone was yelling as I stepped out onto the sidewalk. The bright light made my eyes sting compared to the dim lighting in the garage. "You heard me, get out!" The woman continued, her yelling getting louder.

I smirked, sidestepping to avoid a door flying open. A heavy man walked out, grumbling to himself as pieces of clothes hit his back, being thrown out by his (now) ex-girlfriend. He gave me a look and I just kept walking, not wishing to get in the middle of any domestic disputes.

"And don't ever show your dog-face around here again!" The screams still filled the air and I couldn't help but crack a small grin as I walked farther away. Some men have no luck. And some women have no taste….

The pavement was uneven and I kept my eyes on the cracks as I walked down the road, leaving the yelling behind. The people I passed did the same, none seemed to even notice the commotion. Or at least they didn't care.

Trashcans lined the sides of the buildings and as I passed alleyways I caught sights of various alley cats, waiting in the shadows. A few were brave enough to hiss but most stayed farther back. Laundry hung across the wires from window to window between the buildings and the hum of cheap heaters came from the windows above.

I looked around the familiar setting, barely even bothering to watch where I was going.

What a shit hole.

The whole place was a dump. The streets, the buildings, the people. Everything was dirt poor and hopeless. It'd been years since roadwork was even attempted and buildings that should've been taken down ages ago still stood and housed too many people.

It was sad if you thought about it, but I tried not to. It was pointless to think about things you couldn't fix. And complaining about stuff got you nowhere.

Besides, I was a part of this wreck, this city, just like everyone I'd ever known. I was born to poverty, brought up poor, and I'd die deprived of money. That was something I'd faced a long time ago.

"Hey Butch!" Someone called from across the street. I turned but kept walking as I watched my brother run towards me. His blonde hair was shoved under a beanie and is blue eyes were smug as he reached me.

"What now?" I asked when he fell into step beside me. His grin made me weary and his laugh was a bit unsettling. "Boomer?" I asked with a bit of impatience.

"Chill man," Boomer laughed and punched me in the shoulder. "I just wanted to say sorry for last night."

Last night?

Oh yeah, the game of pool.

"Whatever," I mumbled, slightly surprised I hadn't gotten to yell at him for it first. I looked away from Boomer and glared at the ground, unsettled.

Last night.

The pool game, the drug store, that girl….

My head hurt just remembering how sick I had felt. I had gone home and fell asleep almost instantly after all that. The Tylenol had helped I guess, for what it's worth. I let my mind skip over the blonde, not really feeling the need to dwell on such an annoying thing.

"Well I know a way to get your money back," Boomer was saying, snapping me out of my thoughts. Instantly I forgot about the night before, my mind focused on a more important topic.

"How?" I asked with interest. Boomer was smiling, which I had learned was a bad sign. But his enthusiasm was a boost to my own and over the years he and I had gotten in enough trouble that I wasn't too sketchy about it anymore.

"Well, you know those punks from the bar?" I nodded my head. "They all hang out in the abandoned warehouse every night. They probably keep all their cash with them there. We could get your money back…plus a small bonus for effort."

I smirked, my mood elated.

My, my, how the tides change.

"Do you know which warehouse?" I asked and Boomer just grinned, plucking a toothpick from his pocket and placing it between his teeth.

"Mmm," Boomer confirmed, nudging me with his elbow.

"Fine then. As soon as the sun sets…we're going to pay these boys a visit."

------

"Good evening Butch," Mrs. Botstein said sharply as she pulled sat on her chair on top of her stairwell. Well, technically it wasn't _her_ stairwell but everyone on the block knew that she sat there everyday, all day, just watching the people on the street. I was never really sure why but then again it wasn't as if I'd ever asked.

"Evening," I said as I shoved my hands into my pockets, fishing for my key.

"You're brother out of jail yet?" She asked as I came into line with her. I paused, tossing my key from palm to palm, to offer her a small smile. She didn't offer one back but she wasn't much for smiling to begin with.

"Not yet," I said with an air of indifference. In truth I didn't know exactly when Brick got out of jail but I wasn't about to admit that. I gave her a cocky smirk. "Why 'you asking? You got a thing for jail birds Mrs. Botstein?"

She gave me a harsh look that was truthfully pretty scary but I just kept smirking. "There are enough people around here in and out of jail that I wouldn't need your brother if that was the case." She dismissed my question as the batted a gray lock of hair from her eyes. "I was only asking so I knew when exactly to expect it. I don't like when trouble sneaks up on me and if you three boys are anything it'd be trouble."

"We don't cause _you_ any trouble," I said while turning away from her and heading towards the main door again. I heard her sigh and mutter something like 'troublesome hoods…' before the door swung shut behind me.

------

"Ready?" Boomer asked, his breath low and apprehensive as we crouched down on top of a dumpster, staring into the warehouse window. From our position we could see about ten guys strewn around the inside of the building, some counting money and a good few of them either too drugged up to drunk to do anything productive.

"Are you nervous, you wuss?" I asked, my voice mocking and Boomer sent me a glare.

"I don't like messing with people who are all doped up, you know that," he said with a bit of scorn. "They don't think about consequences, I'm not willing to get shot over some petty dough."

I sighed. "Come on, we ain't going to sit here all night like a couple of pansies," I snapped, this was _his_ idea after all. "Let's just do this."

"Thanks for the words of encouragement O Fearless Leader," Boomer said dryly but I was already antsy and ready to fight. There was no backing out now.

"I'm not Brick I'm not going to baby you," I said while rising up and jumping off the dumpster. "Are you in or out?" I called up, keeping my voice low but Boomer wasn't listening, instead he was staring into the building.

Finally he said and hopped down, the thick soles of his shoes making a light smacking sound as they hit the pavement. He looked over at me and offered a slightly nervous smirk and I just nodded.

"Ready?" I asked, although I shouldn't have had to. Man, usually Boomer was more on task than this. Brick needed to get out quick or else our blonde brother just might go soft on us.

"Yeah," He said.

Together we took a step forward and as one we kicked the door to the warehouse, the hinges giving way and the light from inside spilling out to greet us.

"Hello boys," Boomer laughed, at once in tune with himself, our task, and the thrill of the fight.

---

The air in my apartment building smelled pretty bad, but that was usual. What wasn't normal was the abundance of smoke in the air. I went in, my body slightly sore, and walked towards the stairwell.

The landlord, Vick, was stepping out of his office just before I reached the stairs. His bald head was shining even in the slightly flickering light and he seemed agitated…but that was normal.

"What's with the smoke?" I asked, leaning my shoulder against the wall beside the stairwell. I could feel a bruise forming on my left shoulder that would match the one on my cheek perfectly. But the weight of the money in my pocket and the sack over my shoulder made it worth it.

"The new tenet damn near burned the building down," He said, barely even looking over at me. "I had to haul myself up there to put out the flames. All this for cooking brownies! Who burns brownies?"

Who actually _cooks_ brownies? I wondered but said nothing as I turned and walked quickly up the stairs, my walk actually more like a jog. My body was tired but I ignored the feeling of drowsiness.

Because if it was the new tenet that burned the brownies…that meant it was in the apartment next to me.

"If my stuff got brunt…" I muttered below my breath as I walked onto my floor, passing by a few other residents but not bothering to acknowledge them and not caring if I seemed rude.

I stopped in front of my room and besides the slightly heavier smell of smoke nothing seemed wrong. I glared over at the door to the other side of me. Now I was slightly weary of my new neighbor. I hoped burning food wouldn't be a normal occurrence.

I heard a shift in the other apartment and frowned. Ignore it, I told myself. Just ignore it.

And so I let myself into my apartment, stashing my newly acquired money and heading for the shower. The water was only warm for a few minutes before the cold water kicked in but it still did good to wash off my (as well as some other people's) blood from the fight. I rolled my tense shoulders and leaned my forehead against the cool tiles.

If I was honest with myself (which I tried to be for my own mental health) I knew I was still sick. I could feel the fever getting higher and I knew half the bruises my body now sported could've been avoided if I'd been more coherent.

But I hadn't been. My head was still pounding and I felt nauseous.

Harper had been right.

But still, I hated being sick.

I sighed and stepped out of the shower, not even bothering to towel off before walking to my bedroom/den and pulling on some boxers. It was morning already but it was still dark outside. If I went to bed now I just might get a few hours in.

My body was sore but my headache eased a bit as I fell back against my pullout couch. The air was cool against my burning skin and the sheets and pillowcase seemed to stick to me as I let myself relax.

A pack of cigarettes laid half-empty on the floor just within my reach and I almost grabbed for one. But the air was already filled with the stale smell of smoke and something told me adding to it wouldn't be the healthiest thing.

So I sighed and closed my eyes, the familiar sounds of the city lulling me into a restless sleep.

----

_I was young. About four._

_I was invisible to the world. I was what people didn't want to see. _

_So I chose to hide myself from them. All of them. _

_There were countless amounts of them, these men that came into my home at night. Some wore business suits, some wore uniforms, and some even wore wedding bands. But they all wore that same dead look in their eyes and cold smiles on their faces._

_My mom brought them in. Her makeup was caked on and her laugh hurt my ears. _

_And every night she just ushered them in. _

_My brothers and I did well to stay out of their way. To stay out of sight. We avoided the men's feet and eyes and watched from under tables or behind the couch as they each made themselves at home. _

_In our home._

_We did our best to be invisible._

_We cringed away from their talking, their low throat moans, and their clothes as they were discarded across the room. We knew not to be seen but we couldn't help but see them. Hear them._

_We knew if we were seen there'd be trouble. The men's shoes hurt against your ribs, their voices were harsh and raging to your ears, and their hands were heavy against you when they struck. They were never happy to see us._

_So we hid._

_But they never stayed for long. And once they left we were allowed to come out. We were allowed to be seen._

"_My boys," My mother would sigh, looking around and eventually finding a robe to hide herself. "My dear boys."_

_We'd go to her then, tired of hiding and wanting her comfort. She'd pull us to her and she'd smell different and her laugh was softer. Her hands, elegant and worn, would stroke our hair. _

"_I do this for you," She'd say, and her eyes would look wet and her smile was never very happy. "You know how much Mommy loves you, right?" She's ask and we'd nod and smile at her, because it's good to be seen. "I do this for you."_

_And the next day there'd be more food in the fridge. And we'd get some shoes if we needed them. And that made it okay. That made hiding that next night okay. _

"_I do this for you…"_

_----_

A loud thump was heard and immediately I was awake. I sat up in bed, stretching out my tense muscles and swinging my feet over the side. I didn't bother folding my bed back into my couch and stood up into the bright sun that came into the windows.

I walked into my kitchen intent on eating and forgetting about the dream I'd just had.

Another sound was heard and I realized now it from coming from the apartment next-door. I frowned, dreading even more the idea of these new neighbors. It seemed they weren't going to be quiet ones.

I grabbed a carton of old Chinese food and popped it into the microwave, intent to ignore the sounds from the room next door. But unfortunately they persisted. I growled slightly, my quick temper even more dangerous in the morning. It wasn't as if I'd never had noisy neighbors. I did. In fact everyone in this building had issues with keeping the noise down.

But I was sick damn it and the noises were bringing back the headache I'd hoped to sleep off.

I sighed and pulled on some jeans and an old t-shirt, not even bothering with shoes, before walking out of my apartment and stepping in front of the one next door. Without hesitation I pulled back my fist and banged twice. The knocking seemed to stop the noise inside and I waited a second before the door came open and the smell of smoke became heavier in the hallway.

My mouth went slightly slack at the image before me.

"You!" The blonde girl said in shock. Shock that mirrored my own.

_Dear lord_… I thought. I had absolutely no manner of luck at all.

I quickly recovered, making sure my face displayed my annoyance and covered my surprise. Because it was…well…her. Tylenol girl.

"Do you mind keeping it down? Some people are trying to sleep," I snapped.

She seemed taken aback by my reprimand at first before her blue eyes flared. I took that detail in with a bit of interest.

"It's ten o'clock!" She said shrilly to the horror of my pounding brain.

"So?" I asked, not seeing her reasoning.

She put her hands on her hips and for the first time I noticed she was wearing an old fashioned waitress uniform. The pale tan color of the cloth made her look horrible and she looked slightly tired too despite her obvious growing anger.

"_So?_ So that means I'm allowed to make all the noise I want," She snapped before stepping back to slam the door shut. Before it could close, however, I stuck my foot in and stopped it.

"Keep it down or I'll make you," I warned. It was an empty threat for now because I was too tired to actually think of something to do to her if she kept it up. But I was sure with a few more hours of rest I'd be able to back it up.

I noticed her eyes got wide and panicked for a second and I remembered how she was lost the other night. If she was new around here, then I could use that to my advantage since she was obviously not used to situations like this despite her bravado.

"I'm going to work soon so you'll just have to deal until then," She said but now I could see past her fake bravery and could sense her nervousness. Her blue eyes were untrusting.

I frowned. Honestly, how did she expect to make it here if she couldn't hide her fear? She'd get eaten alive.

"What're you doing that's so loud anyway?" I asked, despite my better judgment. Usually I tried to make conversations as short as possible.

She hesitated and I was amazed she was even considering answering me. She definitely didn't fit in around here.

"I was just looking for my other shoe," she mumbled, swiping at a piece of blonde hair that had fallen into her face. The nervousness was gone and she was suddenly very tired.

"Well," I said with a frown, my eyes scanning over her and looking down to one bare foot rubbing unconsciously against the carpet of her apartment. My eyes then caught sight of her nametag. "Betty, you're being louder then hell."

She seemed confused for a second and I honestly questioned her mental state again. There was a good chance this girl wasn't all there. A very good chance.

Great. Now I had an annoying, flightily, half-witted neighbor.

"Betty?" She mumbled, brushing the hair out of her eyes again. Her face scrunched up a bit into a look that made her seem all too childish. Then her face cleared in understanding. "Oh, my name's not Betty."

"It's not?" I said, my voice a bit bored and my stomach aware that there was some uneaten Chinese food waiting for me in my own apartment. I refrained from tapping her nametag and shouting 'Yes it is you dumb girl!' only because that would require more energy then I had.

"No," She laughed. Her whole demeanor lightened with her smile and I frowned. "My names is Bubbles."

_Like that's much better_, I thought dryly and I just nodded slightly, wondering why I was humoring the girl.

"Butch," I said quickly, shoving my hand at her through the small crack made available by my impending foot. She smiled at me, her eyes no longer untrusting and instead leaning to a more humorous look.

Her hand was soft as it reached out to grasp mine and I didn't grip it back because it seemed so, well, small….

"Nice to meet you Butch," she laughed before I could remind her of how loud she had been. And still our hands were clasped. "Feeling any better?"

I slid my hand from hers and pulled my foot back. I felt suddenly very young again, like a freshman in high school and not at all like an adult with his own apartment and a grand of stolen money in the next room over. I frowned at her.

I was really very sick.

"Much better."

-----

_It's just one of those days  
When you don't want to wake up  
Everything is fucked  
Everybody sucks_

_----_

**Sorry it took so long to write. You see, I fell in love. Yepp, that's my excuse.**

**But despite that I'm going to try writing again because my personal life shouldn't come in the way of this. And writing is a good distraction (in case you didn't know) when you want to forget, well, **_**everything**_**….**


	4. Goodnight, Goodnight

I scrubbed the tables down with an old rag. The cloth was rough and the cold grayish water that seeped out made my fingertips wrinkled and prune-ish. But alas, the table tops were losing a layer of grime that hadn't been cleaned off for what was probably years and I looked down in satisfaction at my work.

Hector, my boss, had locked himself up in his office after grumbling about something like 'inventory'. But I noticed the lights were off and if I'd have a guess, I'd say he was really sleeping.

Vick, the chef I'd met when I'd first walked in a few minutes late due to my issue with finding a certain shoe, was bustling back in the kitchen. Through the slot where I was supposed to pick up orders I could see his slightly graying hair move about as he set things up. Already the smell of burgers and grease filled the small restaurant.

"We open in four minutes!" Called Vick, his voice rough and thick with an Irish accept that was foreign yet refreshing to my ears. I hadn't known many Irish people growing up and there was a certain beauty to the flit of their speech.

"Only four minutes?" I asked, slightly nervous and my voice betrayed my uncertainty.

"Yeah girly, so brace yourself," He said and I bit my lip a bit.

What if I messed up? What if I couldn't remember an order or figure out a check?

"Um, I have a confession I feel I should make before...well...before the masses come in," I barely finished my sentence before Vick's face appeared in the open slot. His thick eyebrows were raised in weariness and a slight bit of curiosity.

"I've never really been a waitress before," I rushed out, hoping Hector hadn't heard. I didn't want to be fired on my first day for incompetence…before we even opened!

"Hah! Is that all?" Vick asked, disappearing again to continue his duties and I began to absently scrub at an invisible mark on a table.

This was going to be bad, I could feel it.

God, what was I thinking? Being a waitress? I'd probably be better at being a rocket-scientist.

"You'll be fine, just don't drop anything," I heard through the wall. I nodded although he couldn't see me. "It'll be docked from your pay."

_Right. _

That shouldn't be too hard.

Just write down the order, take it to Vick, pick up the order, and give it back to the people! That'll be easy. Just…don't drop anything.

"Right," I muttered, tossing the rag behind the counter and wiping my hands against the thick, rough material of my uniform.

"Everyone has to start somewhere," I heard him finish and I paused.

_Everyone has to start somewhere._

I looked around the dirty walls and old-fashioned tables, slowly turning to look out the window and view the city outside.

If everyone has to start somewhere….then hopefully this was my place to start.

I smiled slightly as I walked over to the glass door that led out into the streets. The streets of the large, booming city that was already awake and alive. The streets that I was completely foreign to, but willing to become a part of.

I sighed and reached to unlock the door. And with one last deep breath to brace myself, I flipped the slick paper sign on the door that declared that we were now 'OPEN', and thus began my first day at my first job.

_Yay_!

----

I practically collapsed into a booth as the last customer slipped out the door. Vick was right behind him, locking the door and flipping the sign to 'Closed'. He looked over at me and his face formed a kind-of smile beneath his mustache.

"First day's a blur, huh?" He asked with some humor. Humor at my expense I'm sure.

"Yes," I said, although it was a lie. The day had dragged on for what seemed like years. Hardly a blur at all. "My feet have a pulse of their own."

"Yeah, they'll be sore for a while," he remarked gruffly. "Go ahead and take your shoes off while we clean up, or else they'll swell."

"Aren't bare feet against restaurant regulations?" I asked but I was already kicking off my flats. Tomorrow I would definitely need some tennis shoes…or some slippers. Anything that was soft.

"Places like this don't have regulations," He said while he walked back towards the kitchen.

"They don't have tips either," I muttered once I was sure he was out of hearing range.

It was true though. I hadn't got a tip all day, even though I must've served at least ninety people. But not one extra dime came my way. Some people even bailed out on their check before I could see. Hector had told me that there might not be any tips, but I didn't figure _no one_ would be able to spare a cent.

And besides that, half the people were ruder than anything to me! I had tried to explain that it was my first day but still the demands of "quicker!" and "faster" came at me a mile per minute. I had fumbled immensely for the whole day, trying to learn as I went.

And I rarely got a thank you. Actually, I probably only got two smiles the whole day.

'You chose this place,' my mind reminded me. 'You chose all of this.'

"A tip isn't too much to ask for," I muttered while standing back up. Every muscle of my body protested and begged me to rest. I'd never worked so hard in my entire life and my body was rebelling.

'Be grateful,' My mind added and I fought a scowl. However, it was true. I should've been grateful. What did I expect? Perfection?

The floor was dirty and cool beneath my feet and I quickly went to grab the broom. As the dirt and discarded food gathered into small piles along with my swipes I let my mind wander in hopes of ignoring my fatigue.

Instantly my morning came to mind and I found myself smiling slightly.

Life has so many coincidences, doesn't it?

I mean, one minute I'm getting dressed for work in my new apartment with no one I know around for _miles_, and then the first person I've met since I've moved in turns out to be my neighbor!

It was so ironic it made me smile. It would be good to have a friend so close by.

What was his name again? Ah yes: Butch.

Such an interesting name. Well, he _was_ a pretty interesting guy.

He seemed real reclusive. Shy even. But I knew his harsh attitude is only a cover up for his obvious cry for friendship.

I mean, if he wasn't inwardly friendly he wouldn't have paid for my Tylenol that first night, right?

Nope. He did it out of the kindness of his heart. He's just too modest and awkward to be outwardly sweet. But with some help from me he'll be the most engaging guy on the block.

Yep, Bubbles is on the case!

I've already improved him since the first time we've met so this won't be hard at all.

Because, well, he _was_ already in a slightly better mood then before. Last time at that cute little convenience store he was quiet and unfriendly. Outside my apartment door he was more inclined to speak.

Granted "speaking" meant yelling at me for waking him up, but it's a start.

Yep, Operation Chummy Butch is on! I smiled at the thought.

"Hey," Hector said, startling me out of my reverie and I nearly dropped my broom.

"Hello sir," I smiled. It was the first time he'd come out of his office since this morning besides the random bathroom runs and trips to the kitchen for food.

I waited for him to ask me how my first day went but instead he just looked at the broom in my hands with an odd look of humor. His bald head shown in the dim light.

"You should leave sweeping for last," He said smartly. "Or else you'll just have to do it at the end anyways."

"But-" I said, a bit panicked. My feet were barely carrying me as it were. I couldn't handle finishing cleaning and then sweeping _again_. "But why?

"Because the more you clean everything else, the more and more food will be pushed onto the floor," He laughed and before I could say anything he shook his head and went back and walked out the back door. "Close up, will 'ya Vick?" He called behind him.

I looked down at the faded green tile of the floor. My bare feet were slightly bruised around the spots where my shoes had constricted the most and a stray French fry rested near where the end of the broom rested. Black dots filled my vision as a pulse of soreness ran up my legs.

"Go home."

"Huh?" I looked up, slightly startled. But it was just Vick and he was looking at me with an almost sympathetic gleam in his eyes.

I swallowed, realizing he hadn't meant to go back to my other home on the outskirts of town but instead he meant my apartment. At least there wasn't another person telling me to give up.

"Go home," He repeated. "If you pass out from exhaustion tonight, who will serve my food tomorrow?" I faltered, a little unsure. "Go home girly, you've worked hard."

A smile spread across my face before I could stop it and I resisted hugging the chef only because he looked like he'd die if I showed any form of affection. So instead I just nodded, grabbing my shoes with one hand and walking towards the back door, almost in tears at the idea of lying down and sleeping.

"Thanks so much," I said, my hand against the slightly rusted handle of the door.

"You did good, girl," He nodded but he didn't see me smile. Instead he was already wiping down a table.

"Thanks," I whispered, pushing my way outside. I did well? The thought was a little shocking. I was never good at anything. Ever.

_Everyone has to start somewhere_…

A small smile remained on my lips as I walked onto the streets, the sky turning darker as the night came quickly.

Yes, everyone had to start somewhere and I had firmly decided that my place would be here. I'd made it through my first day of work, I could do it! And no one, not even my family, would convince me otherwise.

Because maybe this would be alright. Maybe moving here wouldn't be a waste like everyone told me it was. Maybe living here would teach me a bit more about myself, just as I'd hoped.

Maybe the city had a plan for me, just as I'd always thought.

----

Or maybe the city just liked to taunt me.

Yes, that was it.

The city, fate, and God just liked to use me as their play thing.

"Just open," I begged.

My whole body sagged against the thin wood of my apartment door, tired and defeated. I felt like banging my head against something. Because my door._wouldn't._open!

"Just-" bang. "-open."

Ow. So banging my head wasn't exactly the smarted idea ever. My forehead was slightly sore and the door was still closed. So much for that.

I felt like crying. Why wasn't my door opening?!

I laid my head down against the dirty floor, something that I knew was probably dumb but it was cold against my slightly warm face and it felt good to rest. I sighed, content.

"_Betty?"_ I heard a deep voice and immediately snapped to attention and the panicked sound. I opened my eyes to see none other than Butch staring down at me. His deep green eyes were weary and his posture was stiff and uneasy.

"Hello," I said with a tired smile. I couldn't find the energy to pull myself off the floor and probably looked a bit crazy. Which would explain why he was staring at me with that slightly unsure look. "It's Bubbles, remember? My nametag only says Betty because-"

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Uh-yeah…" I said, a little confused. Why wouldn't be okay?

"Are you hurt?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck as if he were a bit anxious.

I tilted my head slightly, giving him a questioning look. Then I realized that in my sprawled out position I hadn't looked crazy…I'd looked dead.

I could barely keep a surprised laugh from escaping my lips.

Oops. I could be such a ditz sometimes.

"No," I said, shifting slightly into a more upright position. "I'm fine."

I wondered what Andy would've thought if he saw me strewn across my threshold like a fool.

I jolted, standing up quickly when I realized I hadn't thought of Andy once since that morning. How had I not thought of my own fiancée? Was that possible?

Well…well it had been a busy day. Yes. That was it. Extremely busy. I hadn't really thought of anything except work. Yep, nothing except work.

'_And Operation Chummy Butch…'_ My mind added as I unconsciously rubbed my engagement ring with my thumb.

Yes, and that, but that was only for the sake of finding a friend.

'_He won't be your friend if he thinks you're a freak.'_

I looked up and sure enough, Butch was staring at me as if he wanted to back slowly away. I forced a tired smile again and pushed my messy hair out of my eyes.

"How are you?" I asked, smiling brightly.

"Uh, great," He muttered. I noticed his key hung in left hand and he seemed to shift towards his door. "I'm gonna go inside now, okay?" As if he was afraid I'd stop dead at any second…or as if he were afraid to make a sudden movement without warning me first.

I smiled brilliantly and nodded. See, he was so sweet! He was so concerned and caring and-

"You're weird," He said, his key already jammed into the lock and his body angled slightly away from me. But his eyes still held mine and the striking green color of them had shifted slightly. They seemed a bit darker with something like relief and another unnamed emotion. His mouth had quirked a bit at the edges as if he were trying not to laugh. Trying not to laugh at _me_.

Okay, so not exactly sweet…and he undoubtedly still thought I was insane….but that could all be fixed!

I smiled even brighter.

"Thanks," I laughed and he just shook his head, his door opening and I looked quickly to see if I could see inside but the darkness was as good as a wall.

He walked into the shadows and his door shut slowly behind him. I sighed and the smile fell from my face when I realized I was alone again is the hall.

And my door was still locked.

I could hear a baby crying down the hall as I slid back down to the floor, this time letting my back rest against my door and pulling my legs up to my chest. The lights flickered above my head and I bit my lip, hoping they wouldn't shut off completely.

I closed my eyes and breathed deep.

Okay, so now what?

Come on Bubbles! You're smart and independent now, remember? Find a way to conquer this issue….and calling your sisters or Andy for help is out of the question. Blossom would just shake her head with that 'I told you so' look in her eyes and Andy would be horrified at the mere sight of my apartment building.

So yes, definitely out of the question to call them.

I could….ram it down!

Um. Or not.

I could ask Butch! Friends help friends out! Why hadn't I thought of that before?

The image of Butch came to my mind, which was unusual because I had barely seen him three times…and…and I shouldn't be able to picture him so easily.

But I could.

And he was oddly…pretty…

I swallowed, highly disturbed. Okay, I was tired, and delirious. And Butch…was out of the question.

I could…I could…

"Do you need help?" A small voice asked and I opened my eyes, startled to see a little girl staring curiously at me. Her eyes were big and brown and a dirt smear coated her left cheek. I smiled at her.

"Only I little," I giggled and my heart warmed a bit when she moved to my side. She looked away nervously as she slowly crouched down next to me, her back gently resting against the door.

"I'm Jazz," She said in a voice just a little above a whisper. The sleeve of her plain white night dress rubbed against my bare arm.

"I'm Bubbles," I smiled, stretching my feet out in front of me so that my toes almost hit the opposite wall. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw the girl study my feet with interest. Her big doe eyes trailed the line of bruises from my shoes.

"How'd you do that?" She asked.

"There from working all day," I replied, slowly relaxing and I felt sleep on the edge of my mind. "My shoes aren't comfortable."

"You're brother doesn't buy you new shoes?" She asked. "My brother always buys me new shoes when my other shoes don't fit."

"That's very nice of him," I said with some admiration. "But I don't have a brother."

She looked up at me, her eyes curious again as if she couldn't imagine not having a brother. By the way she talked about her own I figured they were close. Her black hair fell into her brown eyes as she frowned contemplatively.

"That's too bad," She gave me a sympathetic look. "If you had a brother maybe you wouldn't have to sleep out in the hallway. My brother would never let me sleep out in the hall. He says I'm a princess and I'm pretty sure all princesses have beds."

I giggled.

"I _do_ have a bed," I said ruefully, fighting back a yawn. "But it locked me out."

She giggled softly too, her whole face lighting up and I saw she was missing a front tooth. I just wanted to hug her she was so cute.

"That's a really pretty ring." She reached over and ran her thumb gently over the stone of my engagement ring. I looked down at my ring and frowned thoughtfully. It was a Tiffany & Co. ring, the legacy style, that priced a little over four thousand dollars.

It was pretty…

"I have an idea!" She said quickly, startling me when she jumped up. She didn't spare me a look before she marched up to Butch's apartment door and knocked on it with a good amount of force for a girl so young.

"What are you doing?" I asked, panicking slightly. I didn't want Butch to come back out. For some reason (despite the fact that he _was_ going to be my friend…eventually) his eyes had unsettled me. The dark look he had given me before walking inside his apartment made me feel nervous. It was like I was standing in front of the whole country club naked.

"If you don't have a brother, we'll find you one," Jazz said with an innocent smile, not understanding my embarrassment.

Which was understandable…because I shouldn't be embarrassed. I was engaged, other men shouldn't unsettle me.

I barely stood up to pull Jazz back when the door suddenly opened. Butch stood there, his eyes now longer dark as they had been but annoyed. His eyebrows knotted together and he gave me a sour look.

"What?" He asked.

I floundered, a little shocked at the sudden mood swing. Where had the concern gone? Where was his relief when he realized I hadn't died? Maybe this operation was going to be a bit harder then a thought. Then again, most things in life had proved to be harder then I originally planned.

Before I could form words Jazz had bounded bravely forward and latched herself onto Butch's leg. Butch look down at her, his eyes widening fractionally since he obviously hadn't noticed her before.

"Butch!" She giggled into the front of his calf as Butch leaned against the doorframe. He didn't seem to want her latched on his leg but he wasn't pushing her away so I figured it was okay.

"What's going on Jazz?" Butch asked, his voice lazy and his face calm and composed but no longer annoyed. They knew each other? I was surprised although it made sense. They obviously lived on the same floor.

She looked shyly up at him before turning to point at me.

Butch looked up to catch my eye and I smiled a bit awkwardly. I was tired and I just wanted to get into my apartment. Was that too much to ask for?

"Bubbles wants you to be her brother!"

Apparently, the answer it yes. That is _entirely_ too much to ask for.

"Excuse me?" Butch asked, not bothering look at Jazz but instead he maintained eye contact with me and I flushed with embarrassment, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

"She means-" I tried to amend, the idea of calling Blossom and having her drag me kicking and screaming back to dad didn't sound too bad at the moment.

"She needs a brother," Jazz said matter-of-factly. "She has bruises on her feet and no where to sleep but the hall. Don't you think she needs a brother, Butch? Don't you?"

"Um, Jazz-" I tried, a bit mortified. Okay, I barely knew this dude and although I was going to be his friend eventually, (and I was, damn it, because he was desperate to let his sweet side out) he still had to think I was SANE!

"Go inside and grab the silver case off the table, okay Jazz?" Butch asked, which was the longest thing I've ever heard him say.

Without moving Butch nudged his door with his elbow, allowing it to open a bit further. Jazz detangled herself Butch's leg and walked inside, not sparing a glance back and I watched the back of her messy black hair as it disappeared behind the door.

"And don't touch anything else," Butch called over his shoulder.

"I know!" The girl's light voice called back, a small giggle following.

I hesitated before meeting Butch's eyes, bracing myself for the rest of his mood swing. But before I could blink I felt my back hit the wall behind me, not hard but still with enough force to make me gasp slightly. My mind caught up with the moment and I realized Butch had pinned me in my spot, his hands on the wall on both sides of my face, pinning me in.

But the most unexpected of all was his face mere inches from my own, his breath cool and smelling of mint against my skin and his jade eyes boring into my own. His normally unruffled expression was borderline exasperated and his mouth was scowling at me.

I shivered slightly.

_Um…What just happened?_

"Listen Betty," he said, his voice low and despite myself a coil of fear twisted in my stomach. I couldn't find the breath to correct him on my name. "I'm not here to baby-sit you, okay? I don't have time to make sure you're all right and I have a feeling that you're more trouble than you're worth. So let's cut the crap and get this straight, you stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours. I don't need a little girl with no knack for self-preservation or common sense tagging along like a little puppy. Are we clear?"

I sucked in a breath, my throat constricted and my eyes burning as his words hit home. But in the midst of my despair (I _wasn't_ a puppy!) I felt anger begin to weave its way through my veins.

"_You_ listen, _Butch_," I said with as much venom in my voice as I could. "I don't need you to baby-site me, okay? I never wanted _anyone_ to baby-sit me. I can take care of myself!"

"Which is why you're locked out of your apartment and your feet are all bruised?" He asked with mock confusion.

My eyes slammed shut as tears began to leak out and blindly I pushed out, hitting the boy's solid form and knocking him away from me.

He had known? He had known all along that I couldn't get into my apartment and he hadn't cared?

So much for being secretly sweet.

"Jerk!" I screamed, my voice shaky and a pitch higher then intended. Butch was a simple blur as my vision clouded over with a new bought of tears. "I'm **not** locked out, my door just won't open! And my feet are bruised from working all day! And…and…"

My voice cracked to my horror. Oh please, please just don't start bawling.

"And I don't want to be your friend anymore…" I finished in a pathetic whine, bringing my hands up to cover my face. Never in my life had I been talked to like he'd just talked to me. And that's saying a lot since the crowed I grew up in was never known to be kind.

Another wave of anger hit me.

"Be my frien-" Butch began, his voice almost comical with confusion but I wasn't in a laughing mood.

"Butch?" A voice interrupted him and quelled my sudden urge to strike the raven haired boy down.

Jazz stood in Butch's doorway, her brown eyes wide with shock and her hand messing idly with her nightgown. I wiped my eyes quickly and forced a smile at the young child. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Butch step away from me and inch and turn to face her.

"Did you get it?" Butch asked, offering no apology to me or explanation to the child. His voice was back to the same tone of indifference as it normally was. I just glared at the back of his head, still trying to calm myself down.

Jazz just nodded, her uncertainty disappearing as she held up a tarnished metal case, the light from above reflecting off the surface. Butch grabbed it from her, his free hand ruffling her messy hair as he did so.

It would've been endearing…if he wasn't such a jerk.

"Thanks kid," Butch said as he moved to stand if front of my door. I watched, my back still against the opposite wall where he had pinned me.

The case opened to reveal a row of small metal bars, all slightly different sizes. Butch picked one out quickly without hesitation and shut the case with a soft 'click'.

'_Lock picks_,' I realized with a bit of shock. He was…helping me?

I looked over to see Jazz watching Butch, her eyes calm and slightly bored as if she'd realized this long before.

"Um," I muttered, mad at myself for talking to him when I still was so mad. Or at least…I should be mad…should _want_ to be mad…

Ugh. I was too tired to keep up with this.

"I don't need a _key_," I told him. "I have _my_ key but it's not working."

"Why isn't your key working?" Butch asked, not bothering to look at me as he crouched in front of my door, his face becoming level with my lock.

"It won't go in all the way," I explained with a shrug although he couldn't see me.

"Exactly," I heard him say and I frowned. Exactly _what_?

But before I could ask he had worked the small medal pick into the lock and shifted it down slightly. With a move so quick I almost missed it he wedged the tip of the pick into something and suddenly a piece of metal fell out of my lock.

"What…?" I mumbled, moving off the wall and bending to pick up the shining piece of medal that had fallen out.

"The young boys in this building like playing tricks," Brick explained, straightening smoothly into an upright position. He nodded his head at the small smooth piece of tin I held between my thumb and pointer finger. "They stick those into locks which jam up the door."

"Oh," I said, glancing briefly over to see Jazz smiling a slightly toothless grin at me. "Have they done it to you before?" I asked, curious at how he seemed to know _exactly_ how to amend the situation.

"No," He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck casually. "My brothers and I did it enough when we were younger that I know how it works."

"Oh," I said again. Brothers?

"Speaking of brothers," Butch turned towards the small girl, cocking an eyebrow at her in a false irritated expression. The girl just giggled. "Where's your brother? Is the bum just carting you off to strange girls in the hallway now?"

I bristled at the indirect insult he'd thrown my way but tried to quell my anger down. There was no use to beat him down with innocent eyes watching.

"No," Jazz replied, a small frown curving her lips. "Miss Anderson is supposed to be watching me until he gets home but her baby won't stop crying and it was giving me a headache.

"Well if you headache Betty here can help you out," Butch said, and his tone plainly said he was making fun of me. "She has plenty of Tylenol, don't you Betty?"

I stuck my tongue out at him when he met my gaze and his green eyes widened slightly in surprise. "It's Bubbles," I snapped.

Butch's eyes looked almost giddy and I felt sick to my stomach when I realized he _enjoyed_ taunting me. Ugh, this is what I get for thinking I could be friends with someone as unusual as him.

"Wait," Butch said, turning back to Jazz and giving her a stern look. "Does Miss Anderson know you're out here?"

Jazz rubbed her arm sheepishly and my eyes widened. How had I not questioned that? Had I really just assumed a small girl normally wandered around Favela Apartments? Of course she was supposed to be with someone!

"I kind of snuck out," She admitted, looking away from Butch and seeking my eyes for help.

I moved over to her and pulled her against my stomach, her face burying into the cloth of my uniform. "It's alright honey," I smiled down at her. "Let's just get you back to her before she realized you're gone and worries."

Jazz nodded, looking over to see Butch. Probably trying to judge if he was mad but he was just watching us with an unreadable expression. So I reached down grabbed the girls hand, pulling her down the hall. I wasn't sure which room was Miss Anderson but I figured the one with a baby wailing inside was my best bet.

I looked back down the hall and saw that Butch was still watching us. I hesitated, unsure of what to do and settled with giving him a stern glare. But that just seemed to amuse him and I hastily turned away and knocked on the door.

_Annoying boy._

----

I stepped out of the Anderson's apartment with a bit of relief. Jazz had been right; that baby was louder then anything.

Miss Anderson was a sweet woman though, if not a bit exhausted. Her eyes practically popped out of her head when she opened the door and saw Jazz looking shamefacedly up at her. She had ushered us both in at once, apologizing profusely for letting Jazz slip out of her view.

I stayed for at least a good thirty minutes. For some reason I couldn't leave the woman all alone with the kids (it turns out she had three older children of her own in addition to the baby) and I felt an instant sympathy for her.

So I stayed and helped put all the children to bed. Jazz had stayed latched to my side the whole time, insisting she wasn't tired but eventually she climbed into the bed with the other children and drifted off.

As her door shut behind me, I felt my body begin to shut down. I was more tired then I had ever been in my entire life and my jaw popped as a yawn forced itself out.

I turned to walk back to my apartment, intent on going to sleep immediately. And then…

…I froze.

"Butch?" I asked, confused.

Sure enough, Butch was sitting in front of my apartment door, one leg pulled up against his chest and his tan arm propped up against it. His head was leaned back against my door, his jet black hair falling slightly into his face.

He looked over at me and I realized he hadn't been asleep as I'd first assumed but merely waiting. But waiting for what?

Surely he wasn't waiting on me.

What, did he want to be mean to me again?

"About time," he muttered, standing up.

I sighed. I was way too tired for this and it wasn't as if I asked him to wait for me.

…why was he waiting for me again?

"Can I help you?" I asked, my hand reaching to grab the doorknob that led to my comfy bed. I wanted nothing more than to just go to sleep and leave this long, long day behind me.

He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something and then shut it with a frown. Slowly he bent down and picked my shoes up off the ground where I had left them when I'd first came upstairs. I grabbed them from him, a bit confused.

"Um, thank you," I said, smiling tiredly. So maybe he hadn't been the kind considerate, inwardly nice guy I'd first assumed…but…that wasn't his fault. I'd created a personality for him and that's never fair.

So he wasn't exactly the friend I'd hoped for. That's okay. As long as he didn't get in my face like he had done before I'd be fine. Because, after all, he might not be the sweetest guy but maybe with some effort on my behalf he could still become a friend. Operation Chummy Butch was still on.

"Anything else?" I asked, fighting back another yawn. His green eyes watched me steadily but I was too exhausted to be antsy under his gaze.

"Um," He hesitated and again he looked as if he was about to say something but he stopped himself and a look of defeat washed over his face. "Just- just remember I might not be so inclined to come to your rescue next time." He finished, nodding towards my door.

"There won't be a next time Butch," I smiled, a few pieced of hair falling into my face but I was too tired to push them back. "I can handle it from here, thanks again though."

He gave me an assessing look, as if he didn't quite believe me. Again he looked torn between saying something and keeping quiet and a childish part of me whispered that he was trying to apologize for earlier. But that was wishful thinking, wasn't it?

"Let's see," He finally said, his own smile spreading across his face and it was oddly…charming.

And because I was tired and because I was losing most control of my body I found myself holding still as his hand reached out and smoothed my hair behind my ear. His fingertips were rough against my temple.

And because I was tired and oh-so-weary I let a small blush wash across my cheeks.

"Goodnight Butch," I said quickly, opening the door and walking in.

"Goodnight Betty," I heard Butch's low voice, rich with sarcastic humor, follow me. I shut my door and closed my eyes.

"I need to sleep," I whispered, dropping my shoes and heading straight for my bed, forcing my mind to refrain from thinking…well…_anything…_

_Goodnight…_

---

_So goodnight, goodnight  
Walk away from the door  
Walk away from my life  
So Goodnight_

_----_

**So, how was that? **

**Sorry if they aren't all over each other/in love yet. Things such as this take time. And when it comes to people as opposite as them it takes A LOT of time. **

**But I did let Butch show a bit of emotion there at the end, just so we all have a little hope. **

**Thanks for all the reviews! They made my day and unfortunately no, my love life isn't going well. When I said I was in love I failed to mention that **_**he**_** wasn't exactly in love with **_**me**_**. Sorry.**

**But it's okay, because love **_**is**_** misadventure and it's amazing and scary and I wouldn't trade a moment of it for the world. And first loves are so frightening and new that I'm just happy to have had one.**

**And the thought that one day I'll feel for more for someone then I'm feeling right now is impossibly enthralling.**

**It's that hope that gets you through all the bad times, right?**

**Haha, sorry to ramble, I have a bad habit of that.**

**Anyway, have a great weekend! Review please. **


	5. Carry On My Wayward Son

_Okay—__**WARNING**__: This story is definitely pg-13. I know I've put that in the description but I wanted to repeat it in case people missed it. I don't put the rating on for kicks. There will be cursing and serious topics in this fic. You know…all that good stuff :-)_

----

_My breath came out in quick pants, making puffs of heat in the cold air. Rain fell against me, soaked me, froze me, but I stood still. I could ignore the rain. I could ignore the loss of feeling in my nose, ears, and fingers. _

_I couldn't, however, ignore the sight of my mother's body being placed up onto a stretcher. _

_Rain drenched her as she lay unmoving on top of the surface. Mud that had been caked to her pale skin began to run off but dirt and a black-brown substance still stained her clothes. It was blood. Dried blood._

_I swallowed, willing her to open her eyes. I stood waiting for her chest to rise with breath and her lips to be another color, any color, except for blue. But she laid still. _

_My own heartbeat was loud in my ears, drowning out the sounds of the sirens all around me and the soft patter of the steady rain. My throat constricted oddly but no moisture fell form my eyes and the only wetness on my face was from the rain._

"_Everything will be alright boy," A police officer was saying but my eyes remained glued to the body a few yards away. My mouth was melded shut and I felt cold. "Everything will be just fine."_

_His hand, heavy and unfamiliar, fell against my shoulder, squeezing it. I flinched away from him, still refusing to look away from my mother and disliking his touch. I didn't want to be touched. I just wanted my throat to quit feeling so tight. It felt hard to breathe…and her lips were still blue._

_Suddenly a white sheet was brought out of nowhere and was being draped over her by a paramedic in white. The sheet wrapped her, blocking my mom from my sight. It covered her from head to toe and the rain made it mold to her form, becoming transparent within seconds. _

"_No," I mumbled, my voice stiff and too soft to hear over everything around me. "No, take the sheet off." _

"_What was that son?" The police officer asked, kneeling down to my level._

_I tore my eyes away from my mother for the first time in order to stare at the police officer. Panic rose in me. "Take the sheet off her!" I said quickly, my voice a bit louder. "You covered her face; she won't be able to breathe. Take the sheet off!"_

"_Son," The police officer tried to reason, his voice sympathetic and again he reached for my shoulder. I jerked back, glaring at him hard._

"_No! Take the sheet off!" I yelled at him. _

_Panic. _

_She couldn't breathe with the sheet over her face._

_Her lips were already blue._

_Panic…_

"_Calm down boy," The police officer grabbed for me again, looking around for some assistance. I tried to jerk away again but he held fast, he large hands gripping my shoulders and his blunt fingernails digging into my skin through my clothes. He frowned as I struggled. "Boy, calm down!" _

_I hated him._

"_Take the sheet off!" I yelled, the rain dripping from my nose, chin, and hair. "She can't breathe!"_

"_We can't," The man said firmly, shaking me a bit._

_I hated him._

_A few other police officers walked over, drawn by the commotion. I gulped in the cold air, my throat feeling too tight and my skin feeling so cold from the rain that I wondered if my lips were turning blue too._

"_T-take the sheet off," I mumbled, looking down at the cement beneath my feet. A puddle had formed were I was standing and I could see myself as a dark blur. I kept my head ducked as I heard more police officers gather around, hovering uncertainly. _

_I hated them. All of them._

_They needed to take the sheet off!_

"_It wouldn't do any good son," the police officer that was clutching me said. He cleared his throat, seeming to hesitate. He sighed and his voice came out raspy. "She's already dead."_

_I had already punched him before he could finish the sentence. _

_He was twice my size but the power of surprise and the unbalanced crouch he was in made him fly back onto his ass. Water splattered onto everyone but it didn't matter, we were already wet anyway and no one seemed to notice._

_I breathed heavy, anger and panic making my chest constrict almost painfully. Everyone around me was still for a second but behind them the paramedics were moving and I watched motionlessly as they raised my mother's stretcher and loaded her into the back of an ambulance._

_The moment the ambulance door shut I let out a strangled noise, not a sob but something that came from my stomach, chest, and throat and made my ears ring. And then, suddenly, hands were gripping me from all around. Some were restraining me and some were trying to make futile soothing motions. I just stood frozen, trying hard not to curl up into myself. I wanted to be away from the rain, away from the cold, and away from their hands._

_I didn't want to be touched._

"_Get him to the station, Rick," Someone said. I didn't know who. "We already sent his two brothers there a few minutes ago. Send him there too; they'll take care of him."_

"_Should we get him a blanket?" Someone else asked and I tried hard to ignore them. The ambulance's siren ripped through the night and within seconds it had drove away, taking my mother with it._

"_Yeah, get him blanket. The poor boy's shivering to death!" _

_I was?_

"_No, don't put a blanket on him," The officer I had punched was eyeing me wearily. His previous sympathy was long gone and now I could read the trepidation in his eyes._

"_But Chief," A officer who was gripping my shirt said in alarm. "He's soaked through. He's shivering."_

"_Don't give him a blanket," The Police Chief repeated, his eyes still holding mine. Challenging me. "He doesn't like blankets remember? Just get him to the station. A murder scene in no place for a child."_

_I hated him._

_Someone beside me hesitated and then nodded. "Yes, sir," a few officers mumbled and at once I was being dragged towards a cop car. I stumbled to it, my feet frozen and my body numb. But my mind was hot with anger._

_I was being hauled into the back seat of the cop car before I could blink. The door was slammed shut and I sat rigidly on the seat, dripping rain everywhere. I didn't bother to buckle up as the car revved up and the siren was turned on. _

"_It's okay son," the police officer who was driving called back to me, his eyes staring at me hard in the rearview mirror. "We're taking you to the police station now. Your brothers are there already and we'll find you a dry set of clothes. It'll be okay."_

_The seat squeaked as I turned to look out the back window. The other police cars' lights faded as we drove further away from where we'd just been and through the rain the buildings around me seemed dark and looking. _

_No, it wouldn't be okay._

_Nothing would ever be okay._

_Because it was cold._

_And it hurt to breathe._

_And I was just so angry._

_And my mom was dead._

_And nothing would __**ever**__ be okay again._

-----

I woke up calmly. No jerking or gasping for breath.

No, my eyes simply opened and the images of my past faded away as the sight of my apartment sunk in. I swallowed, blinking a few times and laying still as I waited for the sun the warm up my frozen body. The air around me was warm but still I felt annoyingly cold.

I reached over and grabbed my cell phone off the floor, flipping it open to read the time. It was almost noon and far past the time I normally got up. I frowned and rolled over onto my stomach, burying my face into my pillow to block out the sun.

I'd slept in late already. What would a few more hours of sleep hurt?

But even as I laid there, my eyes shut and my body sprawled across my bed, I knew I wouldn't be going back to bed any time soon. The nightmare was still too fresh in my mind and I knew sleep would evade me even if I laid there for hours.

I groaned slightly, my body was tense and my joints were still aching. God, how could I still be sick? Was that even possible?

As a wave of nausea hit me I knew that, yes, it was very possible for me to still be sick.

I groaned at that thought and climbed off my bed, refusing to lie around and let this virus I'd caught get the best of me. I could get through little sickness, despite how persistent it was.

I pulled at my hair as I walked into the kitchen section of my apartment. The late morning sun streamed into my windows from the alleyway outside, strong and already warm. The light made my eyes burn slightly and I rubbed at them a bit tiredly.

I didn't have to go into work at the garage which is why I'd slept in 'till about noon. My stomach grumbled at the lack of food it'd received and I strode purposely towards the fridge. Thankfully my refrigerator was filled due to a certain bag of money I was now in possession of. There's nothing better then the knowledge of a full fridge.

I opened it up and grabbed a slice of pizza and a beer, enjoying the cool air against my bare chest before I shut the door. I ate the pizza cold, contemplating if I should by a microwave, and the beer was rough and bitter against my throat. Something in my mind reminded me that beer wasn't the best drink to have when you're sick but I ignored it.

My mind wandered back to the dream—no, _nightmare_--I'd had.

I grimaced and took a large swig of my beer, willing myself to forget my dream, to forget my virus, and to just forget everything.

Nothing ever came of standing around in your kitchen and fretting over things you could never fix or change, no matter how much you wanted to.

I nodded at my own resolve, finishing off the drink before throwing the empty bottle into the sink. I immediately headed for a shower. I was sweaty and sick and a shower would do well to clear my mind.

---

"Well isn't this a pleasant surprise?" A man with dark skin and black sunglasses greeted me. His greased hair shone in the hot sun.

"Ace," I said in acknowledgement, nodding at the man who was five years my senior. "Why'd you call me?" I asked.

"I heard you were sick Butchy-boy," Ace laughed, punching me on my shoulder and I frowned at him, not quite annoyed but he didn't have to know that.

"Is that why you called me? To drag me out into the heat and inquire about my health?" I frowned and looked over at him. "Wait, who told you that?" I asked, my voice bored.

Ace just turned to glance at me as we began walking down the sidewalk. "Who do you think?"

Ah. Boomer.

"I'm fine," I said harshly. People needed to mind their own business.

"You ain't gonna' puke on me or anything, right?" Ace asked in a slick voice that fully ticked me off, although after all the years I'd known him I'd grown used to it…or at least…I thought I was used to it. Maybe I was just too irritable for my own good when I felt sick.

"No," I said dryly. "I'll keep the up-chuck to a minimum for your sake, princess."

I felt Ace glower at me, not very amused at my nick-name for him but I just kept looking forward. Great, now neither of us were in a good mood. Now we could just keep pissing each other off until someone pulled a knife and gutted the other.

"Thanks," Ace replied, his slick voice covering up the annoyance I knew he felt.

I just made a low sound of agreement.

We walked without saying anything for a few beats. The sidewalk wasn't too crowded but I watched as a few kids stood in a huddle a few yards ahead of us. They were smoking a joint and obviously skipping school and I frowned at the smell of the marijuana. It made my head pound a bit.

God, I hated that stuff.

Even though it was the honestly the weakest drug I'd ever done it was still one of my least favorites. I'd never liked having no control of my body and so pot had never been my thing. I'd just kept to beer, knowing I could throw back a few of those and still be coherent.

I breathed a sigh of relief when we passed the cloud of smoke emitted from the small circle, my head pounding a bit less as we walked further away from the strong stench.

Damn kids.

"Don't you just love the power?" Ace asked, snapping me out of my reverie. I sent him a pointed look, telling him I wasn't following. "Didn't you notice how those kids just split like the Red Sea when we walked by? They stepped out of the way the moment they saw us coming. Now _that's_ power."

They had?

"No," I shrugged. "That's not power. That's fear."

"Same thing," Ace laughed. "If people are afraid of you, that gives you power, right? 

That actually made sense so I shrugged in agreement.

"Ah, I love it," he laughed. "Years of kicking ass, stealing shit, and getting thrown in jail have paid off well."

"Oh yeah," I said sarcastically. "You're such a badass, Ace."

He just smiled and nodded. "Sure am. And people know it too. I've made a name for myself. I've got a reputation." He slapped my back and I just rolled my eyes. "And you've got a reputation too Butchy-boy. People on the streets know us now. They know who we are, they know what we can do, and they're scared shitless."

I just shoved my hands into my jean pockets, the rough material a bit stifling in the hot air. The tips of my fingers on my right hand absently rubbed the cool metal of my gun, careful not to mess with trigger. I mauled over what my companion said for a second.

We've always had reputations. We've always been feared. My brothers and I had been some of the best-known and most feared little bastards since we'd got our first switch-blade.

Was Ace just now realizing this?

"Why'd you call me Ace?" I questioned, suddenly weary.

"Just think about it Butch," Ace continued, ignoring my question. "My gang and your brothers—the strongest forces in the entire city. After all the years of fighting, we've done it."

"The strongest forces?" I asked. "What about the Henley Gang and those assholes that hang by the docks? I don't think they're just going to roll over and die because _you_ proclaimed _us_ the strongest."

"You're right," Ace said as he smiled at me, his teeth flashing and his black shades glinting in the hot sun. "They weren't going to just roll over and die." He paused for a moment to dig out a cigarette and light it. "Which is why my gang and I assisted them with that act."

I stopped walking and gave Ace a shocked look before I quickly forced myself to be stoic again. Ace stopped walking to, turning to face me. He pulled a yellow bandanna out of his back pocket and held it out to me.

I grabbed it from him in slight disbelief. I shocked laugh came out of my mouth, almost completely void of humor, as I stared down at the fabric.

It was one of the yellow bandanas that the Henley gang wore to symbolize their loyalty.

"You took the Henley Gang out?" I asked, glaring at Ace. I wasn't angry, only upset I hadn't been able to help out and a little peeved that I hadn't known before it had happened.

My brothers and I always told the Gang Green Gang (Ace's gang) before any of our rumbles and they had always told us about theirs as well. It was done mainly out of loyalty between the two leaders (Brick and Ace had always been close) but also in case someone from either gang wanted to join in and get a good fight.

"And we took out those assholes by the docks too," Ace confirmed, grinning. "We took them on last night. My gang took the win, of course," he laughed arrogantly and I just smirked. "And now…now there aren't any other opponents that can stand in our way."

I thought about it for a second as I stared down at the yellow bandana that I was still holding. I thought of all the gangs that were a major threat and I realized that they'd all been taken down in the last few months by either my brothers and me or by Ace's gang.

Which made Ace right…all the other gangs were out of the way.

That didn't mean all the other gangs were gone of course, but now the power that had been spread out amongst the largest forces was now in our possession.

"So…" I muttered and we both began walking again. I couldn't help a small smirk that had worked its way onto my face. "We're the strongest, huh?"

Ace laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. This time I wasn't too annoyed.

"Welcome to the top of the food chain, my friend," He smiled.

I grinned.

"Yes," I said dryly. "The power is ours."

"The city is ours," Ace added.

I looked around the familiar streets, my eyes taking it all in.

Yes.

The city was ours now.

"Welcome to the top," Ace repeated.

"Yeah," I muttered. "It's about damn time."

---

"Hey hot-stuff," A woman rasped, slinking up to my side as I walked into the backroom of the _Fatal Catastrophe Night Club._ It had a dumb name but it was the only club where anyone worth talking to went. "You alone tonight?"

I heard Boomer laugh behind me at the nickname the woman had given me and I flicked him off openly. He just laughed again and quickly walked away.

I looked her over. Her clothes left nothing to the imagination and I smirked down at her. I still felt a little sick but Ace's news had me in a slightly euphoric mood and why waste a good night, right? Besides, we were here to celebrate our 'rise to the top' and what better way to celebrate?

So I didn't even bother to answer her question…or ask for her name…or introduce myself. Instead I just motioned for her to follow me as I lead her to one of the back bedrooms. She'd obviously planned for this because she pulled out a key and unlocked one of the doors.

"This is my usual room," She explained. I nodded at her and she shifted nervously under my gaze so I looked away. I sometimes forgot how scary people thought I was and staring never helped.

"Cozy," I said in a bored tone as I looked around the plush room. The lights were dim and everything was either red or black. A few bottles of wine were aligned on the nightstand and although I preferred beer I moved to open them.

"I can make it cozier," She said simply, the nervousness gone form her voice and her tone was sultry again. I heard her high-heels click as she walked up behind me and her breath was warm against the back of my neck.

"Do you do this for everyone who walks into the club and catches your eye?" I asked, not really caring one way or the other if I insulted her. If she got pissed and left there'd always be another girl.

"No," She replied, but her voice wasn't insulted, only playful. I smirked and turned to her. "I'm supposed to make all the powerful guests feel comfortable."

I raised an eyebrow.

"And what makes you think I'm powerful?" I asked, still not really caring. I was grateful when she walked towards me, urging me back to sit on the bed.

"You're Butch, aren't you?" She asked huskily. I nodded. "I thought so. I've seen you and your brothers here before and I've…heard about you."

I didn't really care anymore and wished she'd just skip the talk so we could get down to business. But she didn't and instead she just leaned in closer as if tempting me and I fought back a sigh of annoyance.

"I like powerful men," She said in that same husky voice. I looked her over again, slower this time, and nodded. "And from what I hear, I'd be hard pressed to find anyone more powerful then you around these parts."

"I'm sure you'd manage to find someone easily enough," I said, my voice relaying my boredom.

The girl wasn't at all insulted and instead she looked complimented. I frowned.

What a bitch.

"I-" She began.

"No more talking," I said, cutting her off. This time she did look miffed but quickly covered it up with a sultry smile.

"As you wish," She said, her hands pushing against my shoulders and laying me back against the bed.

----

I stumbled into my apartment a little past three in the morning. It'd been a long night of drinking and partying and despite the small size of my apartment it took me over minute to actually locate my bed.

I fell against it, not bothering to take off my clothes until I realized I reeked of beer, smoke, and cheap perfume. After I disrobed I slid beneath my sheets, my head swimming a bit.

I'd hoped the drinking would've helped me feel better but still my head pounded and my joints ached, despite the liquor's numbing affect. And even in my slightly buzzed state I could tell I was running a fever.

I groaned.

Perfect…

I just closed my eyes, trying to ignore it.

The day had been exciting and I was oddly worn out (no doubt because being sick always wore me out), so falling to sleep was a lot easier then usual. And as unconsciousness teetered on the brink of my mind I absently wished for some Tylenol…because of the fever and all…

---

I walked towards the diner a block away from my apartment building. I'd run out of coffee which sucked ass due to the fact that I now had a slight hang-over.

It wasn't too hot, because the morning was still young, and I was a bit grateful for the break from the heat. I rolled my shoulders, still tired because I'd had another bad nightmare and hadn't been able to get back to sleep after I'd woken up.

Finally I arrived at the diner, pulling the door open and walking in. I was one of only six people inside and I hastily seated myself at an empty booth away from anyone else. Despite my secluded position I still felt people looking at me and I quickly looked up.

A man on the other side of the diner nodded at me respectively and I just frown and looked away.

People had been doing that a lot. Both last night at the club and as I'd walked down the streets. I was honestly a bit shocked that the power of my brothers and the Gang Green Gang affected so many people. But I guess I should've known.

Gangs had ruled these streets long before I was even born and the fact that I was now a power-hold in this was undoubtedly the cause of my new popularity. But still…I was used to nervous glances and fear. Acceptance? Respect? These were things I'd have to get used to.

"Can I help you…?" A familiar voice trailed from my right and I quickly looked to up. "Oh my god!" Came a happy squeal.

I winced at the loud tone.

Oh _my_ god.

"Hey Betty," I found myself saying, a smile tugging at my lips despite the throbbing in my head. She smiled wider.

"Hey!" she laughed. "What a coincidence…well, not really a coincidence seeing as you do live around here…but still…wow! You don't really strike me as the type of person to go out for breakfast."

_I'm not._

"I actually just want coffee," I explained. Why hadn't I put the clues together? I'd seen her in her uniform before, how hadn't I connected that she worked here?

"No food?" She asked, tilting her head slightly. A few strands of blonde hair fell into her face and I frowned at a strange feeling in my stomach. Was I getting sick? God I hoped not. I'm pretty sure one of the most powerful people in the city weren't supposed to hurl all over little girls in diner uniforms.

"No food," I confirmed, running a hand through my hair.

"Why not?" She asked, her tone curious.

"Can you just get me some coffee?" I asked, my bored tone displaying a bit of frustration.

Her cheeks flushed in anger and her blue eyes narrowed. I watched, a bit amused by her antics and the way her emotions came out freely. My headache eased a bit.

"Well," She said, her hands resting on her hips and I felt my lips twitch again. "Sorry to annoy you with my petty questions."

She turned and stomped back to the kitchen and I jolted when I realized I was watching her hips sway as she walked. God, my fever must've been making me delirious if I was checking out an annoying little girl like her.

I fiddled with the salt shaker on the table in frustration.

She came back out a moment later with a tray of food and drinks and although my table was closest to the kitchen she made a point of serving every other table first. I wanted to laugh. Her defiant gesture was oddly cute and I was openly grinning by the time she came to my booth.

She set the steaming mug of coffee down, none-too-gently, on the table in front of me and bit sloshed over the edge. She moved to walk away, her blue eyes pointedly looking anywhere but at me.

I chuckled a bit.

"Thank you," I said as she began to walk away. She froze, startled.

"Um…" She said, turning to look back at me. "You're welcome."

I just nodded at her, my face back to its usual stoic look as she smiled widely at me. I forced myself too look away as she walked back to the kitchen, refusing to let my eyes follow her again like some kind of dumb-ass freshman.

I drank my coffee quickly, hoping the head-ache would ease and my sense would come back to me.

"Ma'am," I heard a man across the diner call as Betty—Bubbles--walked out. He waved her over and because I had nothing better to do I decided to watch on.

The blonde smiled warmly at the man as she walked up to his table. I frowned.

Ugh-did she think she had to be happy all the time or something?

I couldn't hear exactly what the man was saying (and I wasn't quite sure why I cared) but he was smiling up at her and his gold tooth shone in the light. Bubbles didn't seem to mind the absolute haggard appearance of the man and she seemed to be talking animatedly to him.

I sipped my coffee absently, my headache the last thing on my mind.

I leaned back against the seat cushion as she turned to walk away from him, their conversation obviously over. I smirked at the way she turned and walked back to the kitchen. No, walking wasn't the right word. I noticed she didn't really walk, she bounced, as if the simple act of walking was too sad and unanimated for her.

I wasn't the only one who noticed however. The man with the gold tooth was watching her a bit too ardently, his eyes cold and trained on her retreating form.

Suddenly my mug slammed down on the table's surface and I hissed as hot coffee splashed out against my fingers. And although I had just been watching the blonde in the same way as the other man I couldn't help a bout of irritation at his blatant form of lechery.

She was probably half his age, damn it!

"Hey Betty," I called, my voice not loud but still it carried to her and she stopped an inch away from the kitchen door.

I didn't watch her as she walked over to me smiling, and instead I looked around to see if anyone else was enjoying the view more then they should. Fortunately the rest of the men in the diner knew how to keep it in their pants and were all minding their own business.

"Hey," She smiled down at me and I looked up at the curve of her lips. She was such a dumb, oblivious girl.

"Join me," The words slipped out before I could check myself. We both stared at each other, not quite sure what to make of my recent request…no…my recent _demand_.

"I'm working," She said after a few beats. Her eyebrows were knitted together in confusion.

"So stop working for a few minutes," I contoured, my fingers strumming against the table's surface.

She frowned prettily. "I can't."

I smirked at her, forcing my muscles to relax incase I was intimidating her somehow.

"It's the least you can do," I said with a bored tone. "I did, after all, help you get into your apartment the other day."

She hesitated and looked around the diner at the other five costumers who clearly needed no assistance. I could practically see her resolve begin to crumble before my eyes and finally she turned to me and smiled widely.

"Fine," She laughed. "But only for a few minutes."

I just nodded, watching her as she plopped ungracefully into the seat across from me. Her smile never deterred as she swiped at her unruly hair. From the corner of my eye I saw the man with the gold tooth throw a twenty dollar bill down on the table and stand to leave.

I met his eyes before he could leave. The man paused, his hand in mid-air as he reached for the door handle. I raised an eyebrow at him and smirked, clearly relaying that I hadn't missed his previous attention. He got my message and in a huff the man was out the door and down the street.

I smirked wider, not quite sure why I bothered but the annoyance of the other man made me feel a bit better.

I looked back over at the young blonde across from me, her cheeks lightly flushed and her blue eyes wide. She grinned wryly at me; her manner curious but the look in her eyes told me she was weary.

"Is the coffee good?" She asked after a short lapse of silence.

"Hmm," I looked down at my near-empty mug and then back up at her. She was watching me, her eyes expecting and waiting and she didn't flinch under my gaze.

"Well?" She prodded, giggling slightly.

"Well…" I muttered. "I'm actually kind of hungry now."

She laughed, kicking my shin under the table and I fought the urge to either wince or chuckle. Her eyes were playful and her smile wide. Such a silly, oblivious little girl.

"So you're hungry now, huh?" She asked.

"Yeah," I shrugged, I looked at the door and then around at the other customers in the diner. Another man, dressed for work down at the rubber mill, caught my eye and nodded his respect. "I don't have anywhere to be…I could probably stay long enough for some food."

She nodded slowly.

"Okay," She smiled.

I smirked back, still not really sure why I was bothering, but I didn't move to get up so I figured the reason didn't matter.

----

_  
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming  
I can hear them say:_

_Carry on my wayward son  
There'll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don't you cry no more_

----

**TA-DA! Haha, I hope this was worth the wait.**

**IYSFA is still in progress, don't give up hope! It's a really difficult story to write.**

**Anyway, review and tell me what you think! It gives me motivation when I'm at a loss of things to write.**

**Soo…..yeah…..love ya'll! Have a wonderful night!**


	6. Counting Blue Cars

I walked out onto the streets, looking briefly back at the diner before turning to walk away. It had been a long day and my feet (although they were sort of getting used to the work load) were still throbbing.

A breeze teased my ratted hair and made me shiver.

Autumn was already showing its face a bit early this year. I wondered how it would be to spend fall in the city. The thought both thrilled me and made me nervous at the same time.

I sighed as I let my mind drift a bit. It was a bad habit but when I had no one to talk to I somehow always drifted into my own little dream world.

My mind strayed over many things before the image of my green-eyed neighbor popped into my head and remained. I unconsciously smiled at the thought, elated at the new developments I'd been having.

Butch had invited me to sit with him at the diner. Surely that was a sign of friendship! Why else would he have done it?

I had been weary at first but only because the request for me to join him was so out of his normal stoic character. I wondered if he was toying with me. Mocking me somehow. In the end it was the memory of him letting me into my apartment and the way his jade darkened that had me sitting in across from him.

Our conversation had been very sparse and one sided. At times I knew I was annoying him with my rambling but he didn't say anything to make me stop and so I just continued. That comforted me oddly. I liked when people didn't interrupt me.

Tolerance was a good quality in a friendship.

Which is why I finally gave the poor boy a break. After about twenty minutes of my pointless talk I'd really needed to get back to work. And by the way Butch's eyes strayed about the diner and the way he had began to rub his temples I assumed his flash of friendship was pretty much on its last stretch.

And so I gave him a bright smile, trying to hide how excited his patience had made me, and bid him goodbye. I was shocked when he stayed a bit longer, sipping his refilled coffee, and staring blankly at the table as if he were in a daze.

But he never caught my eye again and it felt like I only blinked once and he had somehow slipped out the door without my notice.

The rest of the day had gone by without incidence but I found myself falling back into my newly forming routine. But now that I had time to think I wondered if he would stop by the diner again.

Friends dropped by to say 'hey' right?

The image of Butch repeated in my mind again, his eyes shadowed by the dark sweep of his unruly hair and his mouth tugged into a slight frown as he messed idly with a saltshaker across from me. His skin was tan against his white hoody. That day, however, his normally tanned skin color was a bit paler then usual and I knew that wasn't healthy.

A part of me (the part that only came out when I watched attractive actors on the big-screen) whispered to me that even with the color change he was still beautiful. But although this was true I chose to ignore the voice.

I didn't need to ponder such things. Even if it were true, what did it matter to me?

I was engaged to the most endearing man I'd ever met. And Butch…Butch was just a thug with a pleasant face.

I dodged a few people that walked by me and sighed.

"Men in this city are weird," I muttered as I continued walking towards my apartment building. The sun had already set and the sky above the tall buildings was turning into a deep blue. I breathed in the cool air and pulled my light jacket tighter around my body.

"Are we now?" A voice said from behind me and I fought the urge to shriek.

"Butch!" I said breathily, my fear ebbing as I turned to catch sight of the dark-haired boy. "You scared me half to death!" I scolded.

_Speak of the devil…_

Butch only smirked and raised an eyebrow. I noticed in the dimming light that his cheek was smeared in grease and he had dark bags under his eyes. His skin had grown even paler since this morning and I frowned.

"You didn't answer my question," He said as he walked up beside me and we both began walking at a steady pace towards the direction of our apartment building. I briefly remembered the first time we'd met; when he'd walked with me on the same path.

"No, I suppose I didn't," I smiled softly, my eyes trained on the sidewalk ahead of us. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him shove his hand into his pockets. "And the answer is yes-you all are extremely odd."

He threw me a look, his green eyes unreadable.

"You're hardly one to talk," He replied but his voice wasn't harsh. It was bored.

But that couldn't deter me. Because he was walking with me (which was surely a sign of friendship even if he hadn't meant to run into me) and he was obviously making a slight effort to talk…which was saying a lot for him.

"I know I'm odd," I giggled. "And I accept it. But all of you try to pretend to be so tough."

"Pretend?" He repeated. "Baby, who's pretending?"

I choked on another giggle as I looked away from him quickly and swallowed.

Who was I to say they were all pretending? I knew they were probably a lot tougher then I could ever imagine. But still…this was the same boy who had just invited me to sit with him and eat a few hours ago. It was hard to be too intimidated after that.

"Forget I said anything," I said quickly, my tone a bit more defensive then intended. It was best not to let him think I wasn't too scared. I didn't want to burst his ego.

Butch just frowned, a slight down-ward turn of his lips, as he looked around us. His guarded eyes watched the people that passed with slight weariness. I noticed his shoulders were a little tense.

A few young men called at him from a group of blue cars that went by. The nodded and waved as if he were the most popular kid at school. I couldn't hear what they said but their tones were loud and whooping. Butch chose to ignore them.

They passed slowly and I fought the urge to turn and watch them go.

What strange, strange men.

"So," I tried to break the silence. I was really tired from work and would've appreciated some help from my companion but of course he always needed encouragement to talk. Which was odd. Was he seriously okay with _me_ talking? "What did _you_ do today?"

He looked over at me as if shocked. I fought the urge to giggle at his slightly wide-eyed expression.

Hadn't anyone ever asked him that before?

"Well?" I urged, batting his arm jokingly. He only tensed but didn't dodge my swat.

"I worked," He said plainly, looking away from me.

"Oh," I smiled, a bit upset that I hadn't thought of that. Of course he worked…but where? Would that be a rude question to ask?

"A garage," Butch said and it took me a second to realize he'd answered my unasked question.

Well…that explained the grease stain.

"You like to work on cars?" I asked and he shifted his shoulders into a graceful shrug. His eyes were still trained elsewhere.

"It's alright," He muttered. I could tell he was a bit annoyed and I wondered if he were going to stop walking with me but he just kept my pace. Well…it wasn't as if he had much of an option. We were both going the same way.

"Just alright?" I pried, peculiarly desperate to learn more while he was willing to talk. Well, as willing to talk as he ever got. "I couldn't imagine working on cars. There are so many parts and instructions you'd have to memorize. You must be very smart."

Butch suddenly stopped walking and I stumbled a bit to stop as well.

Tired green eyes stared at me from a paled face. There were dark circles under his eyes that had me troubled but it was the anger and slight panic I saw in those eyes that had my stomach bubble in worry for him.

He looked so worn out.

"What's your angle?" His eerily calm voice snapped me out of my concern and I felt my defenses rise. What was going on _now_?

"My angle-?"

"Why are you asking me this stuff?" He insisted.

"This 'stuff'? You mean about your day? Or your job?" I babbled a bit. "Because you don't _have_ to answer me. I was just curious. I mean, I think it's admirable to be able to work on cars. I know I couldn't do it. I'd probably screw up a wire or something and the car would blow up. And my luck it'd be a really nice car and the owner wouldn't care if I didn't-"

"You think it's admirable to work on cars?" His voice was still void of emotions but his guarded eyes slipped a bit to show his uncertainty and…confusion.

"Isn't it?" I asked, wishing I had just kept my mouth shut. A cool breeze ran against my neck and through my clothes and I shivered again. My fingers messed with the itchy fabric of my uniform.

Butch just watched me steadily, his mouth tugging into a scowl.

"No," He said plainly. "It isn't. And stop asking me questions."

My God. Someone was a bit defensive.

"Sorry," I smiled softly at him, fighting the urge to grab his sleeve and tug him so that we were walking again. I wanted to get home but I wouldn't just leave him there. "I just wanted to know about your day."

Butch stared at me as if I had two heads and I shifted nervously. My eyes trailed down to the cracked sidewalk.

_Dumb girl_. Those are things you _think_…not _say_.

"Why?" His voice brought my eyes back up to his as his curious yet defensive tone met my ears.

"Because that's what friends do," I said simply, smiling again despite the dull blush that had begun to spread on my cheeks.

Why was I blushing?! Ah! Stop blushing. Stop being dumb.

Another breeze ripped through the city and I fought the urge to flee towards my warm apartment and away from that strange look he was giving me. Why wasn't the concrete swallowing me whole like I was praying?

"We aren't friends," Butch said and my mouth fell open slightly.

His voice was solid and final despite its quietness. I could hear the dismissive tone.

We weren't friends?

He stepped closer to me, bending so that he was on my eye level. His eyelashes were black around his dark green eyes and his pupils were dilated. I noticed a small white scar at the corner of his mouth and his breath was warm against my face.

"Do you understand that girl?" He stressed.

"No," I said honestly. I didn't understand. Why weren't we friends?

He shut his eyes tiredly as he straightened and stepped away from me. I watched as he began to rub his temples again as if fighting a bad headache. Even in the growing dark I could see his skin was becoming sickly pale.

"Are you feeling alright?" I asked. I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. Heat seeped through his clothes and my cold hand felt scorched. I instinctively let out a soft gasp.

Butch's eyes flew wide open at my touch and he jerked quickly away from me, his body moving out of my reach. I could only watch on, a bit panicked and completely confused as to why he drew away.

"We aren't friends," He repeated slowly and sternly. He opened his mouth to say more but then shut it and simply shook his head. His black locks brushed at his slightly damp forehead. "We will _never_ be friends, damn-it."

"O-okay," I whispered.

_What was going on?_

Butch just looked away, his body drawn as tight as a bow. He glared at the air.

I waited for him to say something, all the while wondering if it was me who was supposed to talk. But what could I say? My throat felt tight and I frowned at my own incompetence.

Without a word Butch turned from me and walked away.

His shoulders were tense and his walk was brisk.

I shuddered as another breeze hit me and I saw his form disappear around a street corner.

-----

My phone was ringing when I let myself into my apartment. I moved on autopilot to answer it and I breathed out a cheery 'hello'.

"Well don't you sound chipper," Blossom's voice said sarcastically from the other end of the line.

Okay…so my "cheery" hello wasn't exactly convincingly.

I just sighed and sunk into my couch.

"Sorry Bloss. I'm just really tired. It was I long day," I explained, my fingernails picking at the couch's armrest.

"That's okay," Her familiar voice assured me and I smiled softly. I shouldn't be in a bad mood. Everything was okay. Really. It was. "I was just calling to see if you wanted to go shopping tomorrow."

Usually I'd jump on the excuse to spend any time with my sister and I'd always liked to shop…but I was really tired.

"I don't know…"

"Oh come on!" Blossom laughed. "You know you want to. Besides, don't you have that tennis match with Andy's boss in a few days?"

Oh crap!

"Oh my God!" I all but screeched into the phone. "I don't have an outfit yet! I completely forgot!" _How could I forget?_

"Well if you're at all concerned…I think my eardrums are damaged now…thanks sis," Blossom's dry humor made me blush.

"Sorry!" I said quickly. "I didn't mean to yell."

"That's okay," She said simply, dismissing my apology. She was used to such acts by now. "And since you forgot the tennis match am I safe to assume that you forgot Andy's birthday too?"

"Oh…my...God…" I whispered, slapping my forehead. A since of utter self disgust filled me. "I forgot his birthday?"

"No," My sister said quickly. "Don't worry about it. His birthday is in two weeks…remember?"

"Right." I breathed in relief. I still felt slightly ill with grief. _How could I forget?_

I heard Blossom laugh prettily from her side of the line.

"Jeez," She said sternly but after all the years of sisterhood I could hear the humored tone in her voice. "You're not exactly going to win the fiancée of the year award, are you?"

I frowned.

"I just forgot," I said, a bit mortified. I sunk further back into the couch and switched the phone to the other ear. "It won't happen again." Never again.

I looked over at the calendar on my wall. Sure enough, even from where I sat I could see Andy's birthday circled repeatedly with little red hearts drawn all around it. It must've just slipped my mind.

"So do you want to talk about this busy day of yours?" Blossom did well to change the topic. She must've known how horrible I felt.

But this new topic didn't exactly bode well either.

I debated on telling Blossom about Butch but I knew that'd be a mistake. Blossom was very protective of me and she'd probably come down here, eyes flaring, and try to give the young hood a piece of her mind.

I didn't think I could handle that.

'_We will never be friends…'_

I groaned softly. No, it was best to just forget about it.

"No," I sighed into the phone. "It wasn't that important. I was just a bit of an idiot. Forget it."

"Okay," Blossom said but I could tell she didn't want to drop the topic. "So…are we going shopping tomorrow or what?"

I grinned.

"I'll meet you there."

---

"This shirt is nice," I said, stroking the fine silk appreciatively. The smooth blue material caught on a callous that had begun to form on my thumb a few days ago. I pulled away and frowned down at my hands, not necessarily missing the smoothness they'd once had but instead I stood questioning exactly how long it'd take before they would all simply become one massive callous.

"Hm," Blossom hummed, walking away from the rack of dress-pants to come see what I was looking at. She eyed the shirt.

"It goes well with your eyes," She said after a moment of deliberation. She at once began shifting the hangers, her fingers nimbly searching the selection for my size. I reached forward to read the price tag and at once my mood fell a bit.

"Maybe we should look for another shirt," I said, causing Blossom to look over at me and halt her search. "I mean…it isn't exactly my style."

This wasn't _really_ a lie. I mean, it _was_ a bit flashy for my taste. The fabric was loose around the stomach but it was tighter as the material bunched and pulled towards the top, offering a nice v-neck that scooped low. The back was left open so that only the strap around the neck and cloth around the bottom would cover any skin.

It was pretty, by any standards. But it was also showy.

And very expensive…

"What do you mean?" Blossom asked, her odd pink eyes narrowing. "This shirt would be perfect for your date with Andy. It is his birthday, right?"

I nodded slowly, fighting the urge to cringe at the reminder, as I reached out again to smooth the fabric down.

"Then what's the issue?" She inquired, her right hand still resting readily on the rack as the clutched her previous purchases in her left. I had tried to get her to let me carry some bags (since my new tennis outfit was in one after all) but she'd insisted on taking on the load.

"I just…" I fumbled a bit, much to my displeasure. Come on Bubbles, this is your sister! Just be honest! "I just can't afford it right now."

Blossom's hand fell away from the clothes and the turned to fully face me.

"Can't afford it?" She asked, her perfectly shaped eyebrow raised.

"No, I just started my job the other week so I don't have much money right now," I explained, looking away from her and smiling to hide my discomfort. I hated talking about money.

"Just use the credit card Daddy gave you," Blossom said dismissively as she pulled the garment from the rack and turned to walk to the counter. I grabbed her arm before she could get too far and tugged her back.

"I can't!" I said quickly. I couldn't depend on my Father's money anymore.

I _couldn't_.

Blossom, having been pulled off balance, stumbled backwards into me. We both fell to the hard floor of the store, my sister's shopping bags spilling out around us. I winced and watched as a bottle of perfume rolled by.

"_Ow_," Blossom muttered, her annoyance barely concealed. She pulled herself off my lap to stand, her blood red hair falling out of its pin and into her face. I looked up at her as she brushed some imaginary dirt off her expensive white pants and purposely refused to look at me.

"I'm sorry Blossom," I said softly, pulling myself to my hands and knees and crawling around to gather up the spilt items as some of the store personnel walked briskly over to help. My thigh hurt a bit from where Blossom's cell phone had dug into my skin.

God, how embarrassing; I could be such a spazz.

"It everything alright ladies?" The saleswoman asked worriedly as she and few other people scattered to pick everything up. I saw that I wasn't needed and stood quickly to avoid getting in the way.

"Everything's fine," Blossom said with a tight smile, still looking away from me in annoyance. I rubbed my sore butt and sighed.

_Way to go Bubbles, make her mad…_

"Good," The woman smiled brightly at us, obviously recognizing us as valued customers. Her teeth were white and her painted lips were bright and I felt very drabby in my sweat-pants and t-shirt that I had thrown on after work. "Will you be purchasing anything today?"

"Um," I began, looking over at blossom with a bit of uncertainty. She still wasn't looking at me and was instead grabbing her bags from the employees, giving them each a tight smile and nod. "I'm not really-"

"No," Blossom interrupted me. "We won't be purchasing anything today, thank you."

I sighed gratefully, relieved that I wasn't being made to use anyone's money but my own.

"Alright then," The woman still smiled as if we had just said we'd buy the whole store. "You two have a wonderful day and make sure to come back to our store anytime. Closing time is at nine."

We both thanked her and headed out towards the door, the silence between us stretching like a rubber band. I knew at any time it'd snap and the flood gates would open.

"Listen Bubbles…"

Yep, sure enough. _Snap_.

"I'm not mad at you. I'm just worried. You're my sister, I'm allowed to be worried, right?" I nodded my head vigorously at her as we stepped out into crowded mall. "I'm worried which is why I'm so upset. I mean…what is going on? What's wrong with you lately?"

"What's wrong with me?" I echoed.

'_We will never be friends.' _Butch's voice was deep and unwelcome in my thoughts.

I shook my head to clear it.

Nothing was wrong…except I was tired form working, I had a sore butt, and I didn't have an outfit to wear for Andy's birthday.

"Listen," She stopped walking and I turned to look at her. Her pink eyes bore into me and I had to look down at my shoes. "You have a perfect life, a big house, plenty of money, a family who is close by, and a fiancée that adores every breath you take. So why exactly are you trying so hard to run away from it all? Why are you so desperate to leave all that behind? Is this all some kind of early mid-life crisis?"

I laughed a bit. "I know I have a wonderful like I just…I just need a break from it right now."

"But why?"

"You and Buttercup don't understand," I complained. "I've never done anything for myself. I've never made any big choices or taken care of myself and now I'm about to get married-"

"You do want to get married, don't you Bubbles?" Blossom cut me off and I looked up at her. Her pretty face was serious and her eyes watched me closely, gauging my reaction. But she wasn't judging me or looking apprehensive as someone asking such a question usually would. Instead her eyes had a slightly…curious look in them.

"Of course I want to get married," I said quickly, not giving myself time to think because it was such a silly question. _Of course I wanted to get married!_ "I just want to live a little before I do."

Blossom frowned thoughtfully but she seemed to accept my answer as we both began to walk again.

"Just be careful," Blossom said after a while. "Not everyone in the world is pulling for you like I am."

I smiled at her. "Don't worry."

"And don't forget, life has a way of altering everything you think should happen," She continued and I could hear her nervousness. Sometimes she acted entirely too much like a worried mother.

I grabbed her empty hand and squeezed it tight.

"Don't worry," I repeated, smiling wide. "I'm ready for anything life throws at me."

She looked down at the ground for a second before looking back up at me with a wide grin. Her pretty face practically glowed and I knew that her apprehension and annoyance had passed and everything was okay again.

"Okay," She smiled. "No more worrying. Let's find a cheap little shirt for you to wear."

I smacked her arm and she giggled, veering into a random store and I laughed before following after her.

And as we shifted through the discount racks and giggled softly at our casual conversations I began to think about my sister's words.

Because although I wasn't lying when I said I just wanted to live a little…I wondered if there were any other reasons for moving out that maybe I hadn't thought of. The idea of living on my own in the city had been so appealing that I hadn't ever really stopped to think of _all_ the reason I was truly doing it.

'_So why exactly are you trying so hard to run away from it all?'_

Could I really be running away from something?

But running from _what_?

I loved my family, truly I did. A part of me needed a break from the stuffy, confined lifestyle I'd always lived but I wasn't running away, only separating myself a bit. So what exactly was I running from?

Suddenly the store's fluorescent light caught the diamond in my ring, causing it to glare and catch my eye. I looked down at the expensive stone, rubbing my thumb over it absently.

'_You do want to get married, don't you Bubbles?'_

I swallowed and shock my head. This was silly. I wasn't running away from anything and I **did** want to get married. Andy was my other half. He was who I was meant for and who I'd happily spent the rest of my life with. The only reason I was in the city now was because of some much needed freedom and that was all. There were no ulterior motives.

I wasn't running away.

I _wasn't_.

There was nothing to run away from.

_Right?_

I sighed and continued shifting through the racks.

----

I groaned favorably as I sunk deep into the bathtub. The hot water practically scorched my skin but the heat felt good on my sore feet and back. The clear water slowly grew murky as I began to scrub the dirt and grime from work off of me. It had been a long busy day.

I smelled like onions and grease and I doused some rose-scented bath oils onto my skin as I relaxed in thought.

Out of all the customers that'd come in that day, not one of them had been Butch. I frowned at the odd since of disappointment that bubbled in my chest when I realized this. I really wanted to talk to him. But what would I say? I had no idea. But there had to be something I could do.

He had seemed so final…so…upset a few days ago on the street that I had worried. His words had repeated constantly in my head, a dim reminder that maybe my plans weren't destined to work out.

But that wasn't the only reason why I was concerned.

It was his pale skin, sunken eyes, and constant rubbing of his temples that was causing my anxiety.

Was he sick? _Still_?

I couldn't be sure unless I saw him again, but…

But oddly enough I hadn't seen him since that day. Not once.

I could hear him sometimes, late at night as he shifted in his apartment and I lay trying to sleep. He wasn't loud or anything but there were moments that somehow I just simply knew he was in there. Sometimes I debated on going over there and talking to him, but then I'd remember his tone of distaste and I'd remain where I was.

This is how I found myself falling into a daily routine of going asleep listening to the sounds of the city outside and the shuffling of feet or running of water as Butch stirred a few feet and an inch of wall away.

But still, listening and seeing were two completely different things. And I needed to see him. I had to make sure he was okay. I didn't know why it was bugging me but I didn't like how _off_ he'd seemed.

And although he made his point clear about our lack of friendship I still felt oddly concerned. And my concern wouldn't die until I was sure he was okay.

I sighed as I came to the shockingly upsetting conclusion:

Butch was avoiding me.

He had to be.

We lived two feet away from each other and somehow we hadn't seen each other in a couple of days. That wasn't possible unless he was avoiding me. Which he was.

But why?

Because we weren't friends?

I mean, okay, I get it. We aren't friends. But I hadn't done anything wrong. I'd gotten him coffee and some food when he'd come to eat. I'd even sat with him.

Had I _said _something wrong?

I groaned. That was probably it. I had an amazing ability to shove my foot into my mouth in any situation. I must've said something to offend him. But what?

We hadn't really talked much. I mean, _he_ hadn't really talked much. I had talked plenty as he'd either listen or pretend to listen. But I hadn't said anything mean. I'd just talked about little things like the weather and the city. I kept it very casual, just as new friends should.

Had me saying we were friends upset him?

I mean, come on, I haven't even told the guy my last name. I obviously wasn't trying to attach myself to his hip. So what was his problem?

'_It's okay_,' my mind assured me. '_Maybe he has his reasons for avoiding you. He's probably justified for why he was so harsh._'

Or maybe he just really doesn't want to be my friend…

I frowned, that thought oddly unappealing.

Oh well, I can't do anything about it now.

I nodded my head and continued to scrub at my skin, forcing myself to stop worrying. It was pointless to worry about such things. I had more important things to think about like…

'_We will never be friends._'

Ack! No. I needed to think of something else. Like…Andy! His birthday was coming up and I still didn't have a shirt to wear.

Or a gift…

_Great_…

---

I snuggled into my sheets, my window open and my apartment slightly cool. Already the warm summer air that had been so muggy just a week ago was almost completely gone. The change was so rapid that I knew an early winter would be coming this year and there was no use wasting the nice weather on a shut window. Blossom had warned me to keep all my windows closed but I doubted anyone would climb the fire escape to get to me.

I smiled slightly and rolled over.

My body was tired and I closed my eyes, needing sleep.

I must've laid there for hours, which wasn't healthy since I had work the next day, but sleep evaded me. I began to get antsy, tossing back and forth to try and find a comfortable position.

Nothing.

I sighed heavily, rolling onto my back to stare up at my ceiling. I reached up and fiddled with a few strands of my light blonde hair, my mind too worn out to even count sheep.

I needed sleep or I'd pass out while serving someone their coffee or something.

I debated on calling Blossom to get some sleeping tips…but knowing her she'd already be asleep. And then I'd wake her up and she'd be mad at me and how could I ever sleep if I thought she was mad at me? So that was a big 'no'.

Buttercup wouldn't do either. She probably wouldn't even bother to pick up her phone. She hated being woken up and the last thing I wanted was the wrath of my temperamental sister.

_I could call Andy…_

I frowned thoughtfully. What would Andy do if I called him at this hour? He'd probably panic, thinking I was hurt, and call for a driver to come pick me up. Or he'd just think I was crazy. Either way it wasn't good.

"You traitorous body," I mumbled, pulling my hair a bit. "Just sleep."

A yawn escaped me but no sleep came.

The clock now read three a.m.

Just then I heard a door open and I recognized the sound coming from next door.

Ah, so my neighbor had finally stumbled home.

Where did he go so late? Did he work at the garage at night too? Or maybe he's a really big partier. Huh, Butch a partier? I doubted anyone as sarcastic and calm as him could be much fun at a party. He was like one of the kids who sat in the corner and sulked the whole time because he was too cool to have fun. You know, the kid who thought all the other kids were being too loud for him.

I giggled at the thought because I could actually picture a little Butch with crossed arms and a small scowl on his face as he sat in a dark corner while the rest of the kids hit the piñata. Poor boy, did he ever have a good time?

I mean, I'd never seen him actually happy…unless he was being rude to me. He seemed to enjoy doing that a bit too much for my liking.

I giggled again, rolling my eyes.

'_What a complicated, anti-social little boy_.' I thought with no small amount of humor.

But it didn't matter. Everyone had there vices (and God knew I had my own) but his weren't going to get to me. I didn't care much about his faults and ways and all I could truly think about was the panicked look in his eyes as he had backed away from my tough. Like a trapped animal.

But what had caused such a reaction?

And why did he look so ill?

…Andy why did I care? I don't know. My reasons for my friendship weren't important, just like the reasons for moving to the city weren't important. Sometimes you just have to do things when it feels right and worry about the reasons later.

Which is why I didn't care if he was avoiding me.

I wouldn't let him sit in the corner this time. I was going to be his friend. I was going to help him relax a bit. Besides, no one could ever avoid me for long. I'd find a way. Why?

Because he'd let me into my apartment.

Because he'd asked me to sit by him at the diner.

Because his skin had gotten pale and that worried me.

And…and...

Because I had to.

Because I _wanted_ to.

And because all the other reason didn't seem important enough to bother with.

Besides, I was tired. And so I fell asleep again, listening to a small cough from next door and the squeak of metal as Butch must've laid down as well. I waited for another thought to come to my mind or another sound to emerge from the other apartment but before either could I had already fallen asleep.

_Finally._

---

"Excited about tennis?" Andy asked, his tone sweet and earnest in my ear.

I adjusted my cell phone on the crook of my neck and continued to sort my dirty laundry. The Laundromat wasn't very crowded so I took my time loading the machine with my two dirty uniforms and the few other items of clothes I'd somehow gotten around to wear the past week.

"Yep!" I said happily, sliding my quarters into their slot and adjusting the machine's settings.

"Good. Me too!" He laughed. "I still can't believe my boss asked me to play! This is such a great opportunity. And you'll get to meet his wife. It'll make me happy to see you two bond…and I'm certain she'll enjoy it too."

I laughed politely as the washing machine geared up and began to do its job.

"It will be fun," I agreed. I turned and leaned back against the washing machine.

We were both quiet for a second and I shifted awkwardly, slightly glad my fiancée wasn't there to see my messy appearance. He'd die of shock if he saw my lose ponytail and cotton shorts. And if _he_'d die then his mother would absolutely flip her lid if she saw me.

Especially since my baggy jacket had a stain on it.

She'd just wither up and die.

"Bubbles," Andy's voice snapped me back to reality and I lifted myself up on top of the washer machine to sit for a while.

"Yes?" I urged, running my hands down my bare legs.

I needed to shave.

"I miss seeing you every day," Andy's words made me pause. I smiled softly.

_Aw._

"I miss you too," I said with a bit of a sigh. "Sometimes it's weird to think I'm only an hour or two away from home. It feels like a completely different world, you know?"

"No," He said slowly. "I'm afraid I don't. I've never really been to that part of town before."

I bit my lip and shook my head.

"No," I laughed. "I suppose it's hard to explain."

"Well," Andy's tone was still cheerful. "My driver's waiting outside the building and I still need to finish a file…"

"Oh!" I said after a second, realizing he was too polite to tell me he needed to go. "You must be really busy, I'm sorry! I'll let you go."

Andy laughed. "Aw Bubbles, you're just so forgetful sometimes." He said endearingly. "It's so cute."

What am I? _Two_?

I mentally smacked myself. What was my issue? Andy had every right to say stuff like that. Besides, it was true. I _was_ forgetful.

Which reminded me…

"I'm excited about your birthday!" I said quickly.

There was a pause. And then another endearing laugh. "Me too."

"I'll talk to you later," I said, my feet swinging idly over the edge of the machine I was perched upon.

"I love you," Andy breathed into the phone.

A ding sounded beneath my butt and I jolted.

"Oh!" I laughed. "My load of laundry is done."

"Well I need to go," Andy was reminding me.

"Of course," I said apologetically. "Goodbye."

We both hung up and I sighed, shoving my cell into my pocket and leaning up against the washing machine. I felt so tired.

I looked out the Laundromat window to see the dark sky.

Great.

It was already nighttime.

----

"This place needs to invest in some elevators," I huffed as I trudged up the steps of my apartment building. The stairway was small and dimly lit and I held fast to the slightly rusted rail.

The sound of Miss Anderson's baby wailing down the hall made me frown. I debated if I should go and see if she needed any help or not. I was tired but still the woman was dealing with a lot. She could use the help.

I nodded with conviction. I'd help her. The kids were sweet and I was pretty sure Jazz would be there again. It might do me some good to spend some time with that happy little girl.

I went to my apartment and let myself in. I didn't bother to even turn on a light as I dropped my bag of clean clothes onto the floor and stepped back out into the hallway. I pulled my door shut and fiddled with the key until it was locked.

The baby's wail had died down a bit but I could still hear its sobs. It must've needed a quick breath or something.

Before I could turn and walk to Miss Anderson's door, however, my eye caught sight of something else.

I turned quickly to see that Butch's door was slightly ajar. I frowned at this and stepped over to grab the handle. I began to pull it shut, hoping that it had just been left open by accident. Maybe the jam had caught and kept it from closing.

Just before the door shut completely I heard a violent cough from inside the apartment.

I jolted, not having expected anyone to be inside. From what I had seen everything was completely black behind the door. Surely Butch wasn't in there. But if not him…then who?

I shivered.

"Butch?" I called softly, hesitantly. My hand remained on the metal doorknob, ready to shut it at any moment.

No reply came and I frowned and cracked the door open a bit wider.

"Butch…is that you?" I stuck my eye against the crack, peering inside. I could see dark silhouettes of furniture outlined by the pale moonlight seeping in through the windows but nothing moved to indicate someone was there. I swallowed.

"Be brave," I whispered before I thrust the door wide open. I tensed, expecting something to pop out and scare me but still nothing moved. I groaned. "Stop being so ridiculous."

I felt around for a light switch, my hand rubbing against the wall in vain. I fumbled a while longer before my fingers finally brushed against a cool switch. I almost jumped with joy.

I hated the dark.

I flicked the switch quickly and instead of immediate clarity only a small lamp in the corner came on. The light it emitted was dim and cast odd shadows on the wall but it did help a little. At least it wasn't completely dark.

My eyes trailed over the plain furniture around me. Everything looked extremely worn and aged and I was amazed that he had even less furniture then me. Finally my eyes fell on a threadbare pullout couch by the window.

It wasn't so much the couch that caught my attention but more the person on it.

"Butch?" I asked worriedly.

Sure enough, the hunched figure was Butch. I reached back and shut his door before I turned to walk towards him, unsure of my intent by my feet carrying me regardless. Within a few short steps I was in front of him, staring dumbly down at him.

He was hunched over, sitting on the side of his couch/bed. His face was buried in his hands as he rested his elbows on his knees. His hair was tangled and his clothes were damp with sweat.

Hadn't he heard me come in?

"Butch?" I repeated, reaching out and resting my hand on his head. His onyx hair was surprisingly soft beneath my fingers and I unconsciously sunk my nails into his messy locks…which wasn't a good idea because…

Suddenly Butch jerked into awareness, as if my touch had awoken him from a trance. His head snapped up and a few strands of his hair were yanked out of his head. I stared dumbly at the strands between my fingers.

I waited, expecting him to yell at me. To question me. To kick me out.

But he didn't do any of those.

Instead he stared blankly at me as if he couldn't quite discern who was in front of him. Even in the dim light I could see the glaze in his eyes and the extremely pale color of his sweat-slicked skin. I swallowed nervously.

"Oh Butch," I whispered, reaching out to cup his face. His cheeks burned my palms and the damp texture of his skin made me wince. He was running an extremely high fever. I could practically feel the heat radiating from the rest of his body.

"Betty?" His voice was rough but still strong despite his fever-induced state of uncertainty.

I smiled at him, unconsciously letting my hand trail up to feel his burning forehead. His faded emerald eyes stared steadily at me but I could tell nothing was truly connecting.

"Yeah," I laughed weakly. "It's me. I'm right here."

Butch swallowed and pulled away suddenly. I froze, a bit stung that even in his slight delirium he pulled away from my touch. But as a cough ripped out of his mouth, shaking his whole body and making me wince, I realized he'd simply moved to avoid coughing on me.

"I need to get you to a hospital," I told him, moving to grab the phone from my pocket.

A sweaty palm closed around my arm, making me freeze. Butch's hand gripped me tighter.

"No," He said roughly, his voice slightly wavering. "No hospitals."

I just nodded.

"Okay," I breathed. "Then I'll take care of you."

Butch said nothing, simply lapsing back into his state of semi-unconsciousness that worried me. I willed my hand not to shake as I reached out and clutched his shoulder, pushing him easily back into a laying position. I was surprised he didn't resist.

_Okay… what now?_

Whenever I'd had bad fevers as a child I'd been thrown into an ice bath. It'd been painful but the fever always broke.

I looked over at Butch's prone form and blushed. No…that wasn't going to happen.

"Come on," I stepped closer towards him. The air surrounding the bed was thick and I gently took hold of Butch's sleeve. I tugged gently. "Lay back against the pillows." I instructed and tried to steady him as he shifted awkwardly backwards so that he was lying fully on the bed with his head against the pillow.

A rough cough shook his body and he groaned in pain at the raking in his chest.

"Shh," I soothed, leaning over to smooth his hair and lightly wipe his forehead. His skin was too hot against my fingertips and I again felt a bout of panic. Maybe an ice bath would be necessary. His skin was too warm and his eyes were too distant.

"You…can leave now," I heard Butch's voice rasp out, sounding a bit gravelly. His jade eyes tried to focus on me but failed. "I'm fine."

I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or cry. He called this 'fine'?

I just ignored his request, making another shushing sound and continuing to stroke his hair. He closed his eyes and swallowed and I winced at the lucid look of his eyelids. I brushed a few sweaty strands of hair off his forehead before letting my fingers trail down to trace the edges of his eyes. They were sunken in and almost bruised looking, his black eyelashes stood out sharply against his pale cheeks.

"Okay, get to work" I urged myself. I pulled away from my hovering position and straightened. I looked around the apartment briefly before my eyes found the kitchen area and I quickly made my way to it.

Dishes were stacked high in the sink and a few empty beer bottles were discarded across the counter. I ignored this and instead began opening random cabinets and drawers. I winced as I heard another painful cough come from the pullout couch.

God, could I handle this?

----

"Butch?" I called softly as I pulled myself up onto the bed to sit beside the boy. My bare feet were tucked beneath me and I shifted to face him. He just laid there, eyes closed and his chest gently rising and falling.

One of his eyes cracked open and found me.

"Betty?" He mumbled, sounding a bit confused. I wondered how much of this he'd remember later after his fever fell. He seemed like he could barely remember a few moments ago.

"Hey," I smiled brightly at him. I shifted towards the bottom of his bed where a sheet was bunched up and discarded. I pulled the thin material up around him, making sure he was completely covered as I tucked it beneath his shoulders.

He simply watched me, our faces close as I tucked him in like a child. He shivered slightly and I wished I had more blankets to cover his with.

"I'm fine," He rasped out. "I don't need any help."

I just laughed softly.

"I'm going to help you anyway, is that alright?"

He frowned at me but said nothing as I grabbed the rag I had found from a bowl of water. I rung the cloth out slightly, the cold water numbing my fingers until I was positive it wouldn't drip everywhere. I shifted closer to Butch and gently placed the rag on his forehead.

"Better?" I asked, pulling my hands back into my lap and fidgeting with them.

He didn't say anything, only closed his eyes.

I took that as a yes.

"Cold water helps," I explained. I wasn't sure why I was talking but it helped to sooth my nerves so I kept my tones low in case it bothered him. "I always used to bathe in cold water when I was sick. When I was really little I hated it but it always helped."

I dipped my fingers in the cool liquid and began to trail them on his neck, knowing that he'd appreciate the cold there. He shifted a bit but to my relief he shifted towards me and I continued my ministrations, hoping they'd help.

"My nanny used to leave me in the tub too long," I continued, again dipping my fingers and running them against the burning skin of his neck. I traced his Adams apple with slight interest. "Sometimes I'd come out with blue lips. It always scared my sisters to see my lips turn blue and although it's my favorite color I admit I hated the experience too."

"I hate being sick," I heard his deep voice admit and I looked up at his face. Butch's eyes remained closed but he swallowed softly, his tongue coming out to wet his dried lips. "I've always hated being sick."

I nodded, tracing more cold water against his cheeks now. An odd blush formed where I touched. The flush looked better then the pale skin and I smiled softly.

"Haven't you been sick since I've met you?" I asked, my tone soft but curious.

A cough erupted from him and he brought his hands up to cover his face as his body rocked with the hacking. I frowned, placing my hand against his chest and rubbing slightly where I knew it must've hurt.

This seemed to calm him slightly and he brought his hands back down, his cough subsiding.

His eyes were open now and trying to focus on me.

"Yeah," He said. "I haven't felt good since then."

I frowned. "You've honestly been sick this whole time? Didn't you let yourself rest at all? Didn't you at least try to recover?"

"Did _you_?"

"I made sure I rested, yes," I said firmly. "I took plenty of medicine and drank lots of water. Why didn't you rest?"

"Does it matter?" He sounded slightly peeved but I ignored it. He obviously wasn't too mad if he was continuing to let my hand make soothing circles against his solid chest.

"Yes it matters," I rolled my eyes. "Look at you now! You could've avoided all of this if you just took better care of yourself."

"I can take care of myself just fine," he muttered, closing his eyes as if in pain and I cringed when I realized I had raised my voice. That must've made his head ache.

"I know you can," I assured him. With my free hand I pulled the rag off his forehead and dipped it back into the cold water. I squeezed it out before placing it back behind his neck. He sighed, seeming to accept the gesture.

We were silent for a while and I continued to rub his chest, the thin sheet and the thin material of his shirt didn't hide the feeling of his burning skin and I could only hope his fever was dying. I sighed and moved my hand slightly, letting his rest against his the muscle of his left side. Beneath my palm his heartbeat pulsed steadily.

That was reassuring.

I smiled slightly and continued stroking his chest, glad he hadn't coughed recently. The sound pained me and I knew it hurt him.

"I hate being sick," Butch repeated, breaking the silence. I looked up at his face to find him staring at me. His eyes were slightly less glazed which could only mean his fever was falling. The green orbs were still dark.

"Why?" I found myself asking, dripping more water against his forehead to cool him and placing my palm against his skin. He was still warm but decidedly better.

"My nightmares are always worse when I'm sick," His voice was low, almost inaudible and I wasn't sure if I'd heard him right.

Nightmares?

"What are your nightmares about?" I asked, brushing the jet black hair from his face and trailing my nails slightly through it. He shivered and I pulled my hand back.

I swallowed, again wishing I'd had more blankets.

"I have horrible nightmares…" He began, looking away from me and I listened ardently. He seemed reluctant to continue and I wondered how bad his nightmares truly were. "…about annoying blonde girls in diner uniforms."

I smacked his chest lightly, fighting back a smile.

"That's not funny," I giggled. His eyes found mine again and his dried lips had pulled up slightly into a weak smirk.

"I know," he rasped. "It's quite terrifying."

I tried to look offended but failed miserably.

"So…you don't really have nightmares?" I asked, my smile soft as I pulled my hands into my lap to keep from touching him again. He was feeling better and would no doubt remember some of this. I didn't want him to think I was some hormonal teenager who couldn't keep her hands to herself.

He was quiet for a moment and I looked up to see him staring blankly at the air, his eyes dark and hooded.

"I hate being sick," He said finally, confirming that he did in fact have nightmares.

I frowned, wondering what plagued him while he slept.

"Well," I forced my tone to be bright. "You don't have to worry about nightmares tonight. I'm right here to protect you. So you go ahead and go to sleep."

"You're going to protect me?" He laughed and I tried not to be too insulted.

"Yes," I smiled. "So go to sleep. You need your rest. Besides, I like taking care of people. I hate leaving my friends in pain."

He watched me for a moment, his eyes still slightly hazed and his skin still a little too pale and warm. I realized he was still a too fever induced and would probably forget this ever happened. This gave me some courage to reach out and place my hand on his chest again, rubbing it a little.

"I thought I told you that we weren't friends," his voice was softer then usual. Probably from fatigue. I knew high fevers wore you out.

"Did you?" I asked, playing dumb.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"You're too damn stubborn," He said after a beat.

I grinned. "So are you."

Butch just closed his eyes and I watched mutely as his hand came up to still my own. My hand lay motionless and through the thin material I could feel his solid chest. I waited for him to push my hand away but his rough fingers just closed around my wrist, tickling my skin.

I frowned down at him and his large hand that only continued to trap mine against his chest, keeping it there.

I sighed.

"Goodnight," I whispered as the rising of his chest evened out beneath my hand. He was asleep.

I smiled and gently pulled my hand from his, the pulse of his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin still making my hand feel odd. I sat beside him for a while, watching his pale form doze. I wondered if he was going to have nightmares. I wondered what I'd do if he did.

With a small shrug I rolled off the bed.

I'd handle it when the time came. But for the moment…

His apartment was a mess and I began to busy myself by straightening it up.

I would stay close tonight, just to make sure he was okay.

It wouldn't do anyone any good if he awoke in the night with a high fever again.

'_Besides_,' I thought, my eyes trailing over to his sweat-soaked form that lay still on the bed. '_I promised I'd protect him from his nightmares_.'

-----

_Its getting cold; pick up the pace  
How our shoes make hard noises in this place  
Our clothes are stained  
We pass many, cross eyed people  
And ask many questions  
Like children often do_

_-----_

**Ta-da!!!!!!**

**That took forever! I'm not completely happy with it but it'll do. Ah! I'm suffering from major writer's block for iysfa! But believe it or not I actually have a rough portion of the final chapter done…it's just all the chapters in between that I'm struggling with.**

**Haha, so bear with me. It was come, I promise. **

**Oh, and review. I need to know what you think! Do you like their characters?**

**Oh…and was this longer? Haha. **

**Much love.**


	7. Muscle Museum

I hate being sick

I felt oddly rested when I woke up.

And better.

There wasn't a headache throbbing against my skull. There wasn't a sense of nausea. I didn't feel like everything I'd ever devoured was about to come back up just to say "hey". Maybe I'd finally gotten over whatever virus I'd seemed to have caught and kept.

Which was good.

I hated being sick.

I sighed a bit languidly, stretching out against my bed and arching my back like some kind of alley cat who'd spent the night in a sushi kitchen. My muscled tensed and then loosened pleasantly.

But something was off. There was a heavy…something…resting against my stomach weighing me down.

A frown found its way onto my face when I opened my eyes to see a familiar blonde girl sleeping against me awkwardly. Her head was resting against her arms against my stomach, her hair spread out around her and spilling out against the bed and my chest. The fingers on her right hand were entwined in my shirt.

The rest of her body was on the floor beside my bed. Somehow she'd fallen asleep on her knees, her form sagged and her feet tucked beneath her.

My first thought was, '_God, that can not be comfortable_.'

And my second thought was, obviously, '_What the fuck_?'

I strained to remember the night before. But it was as if I'd be hammered or something. Everything was foggy. Nothing came to mind that would explain this…interesting development.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. It wasn't as if anything had happened though. She was still fully clothed and not _exactly _on me. So it was safe to assume whatever the hell happened was probably the result of her own stupidity.

Or mine.

But most likely hers seeing as she was such a stupid, oblivious girl.

With exaggerated slowness I eased to the side and out from underneath the blonde. She didn't even stir as her upper half left my own and came to rest against the thin mattress. I waited patiently to see if she noticed the sudden lack of warmth but she didn't and I just sighed and rolled my eyes again.

I rose fluidly from my bed, popping my neck and stretching a bit. As I stood a thick blanket fell from my form and pooled around my feet. I blinked and stared at it, trying to figure out why the hell there was a pink…furry…slightly sparkly blanket in my apartment….and precisely why it had been doing on _me_.

"What the fuck?" I muttered out loud this time. A large part of my male pride was withering up and dying with the realization that I had slept under that pink…_thing_ the whole night.

If my brothers ever found out I'd never hear the end of it. And if Ace heard…oh god, I could just kiss my reputation goodbye.

What did that crazy girl do to me?

Once rid of the impending cloth my eyes scanned the rest of my apartment and I noticed that the pink blanket wasn't the only thing out of place. In fact a lot was different. Take, for instance, the fact that everything was clean.

There wasn't a stay piece of clothes on the floor or a dirty dish pile anywhere to be seen. The half-empty pack of cigarettes I'd purposefully left within reach was also missing and I scowled.

'_It's me. I'm right here…' _My mind flashed and backtracked to a strange image. Bubbles was in my dark apartment, her smile and face shadowed and close and her hands trailing from my cheeks to my forehead to…check my fever?

I scowled over at the girl still sleeping against the side of my bed.

That's right. I'd gotten really sick the night before. She must've somehow gotten into my apartment and seen me. But why'd she help me? And why the hell did she stay?

"Dumb girl," I muttered darkly, looking away from her small form as her back rose and fell with slow breaths.

I wasn't quite sure what to do with her. I mean, I could wake her up…but then she'd talk.

And she sure liked to talk a lot.

But leaving her there would be disastrous too. If I just left her then I'd practically be saying it was okay that she was there. Which it wasn't.

She wasn't invited in and she had no right to be there.

I needed to wake up so I'd get a chance to tell her never to meddle in my business again. Hadn't I just told her the day before that I didn't want her help or friendship? Didn't she understand that?

My eyes drifted back over to the girl.

_Obviously not_…

"Whatever," I sighed, jamming my fingers into my hair and shaking my head. Looking at her had more and more memories from the night before recollecting in my mind. And I found I wasn't quite sure if I preferred remembering them or being unaware.

But god, the images…

Bubbles pushing me back against my pillows.

Bubbles stoking my hair.

Bubbles pushing a wet cloth against my forehead as her small fingers trailed lightly against my chest.

'_You don't have to worry about nightmares tonight. I'm right here to protect you._' She had breathed out, her face close and her blue eyes almost like midnight in the dim lighting. Her blonde hair fell from her behind her ears and brushed my cheek._ 'So you go ahead and go to sleep.' _A smile lit up the dark.

I groaned lightly before turning and walking into my bathroom. I'd deal with her later.

After I took a shower.

A cold one.

.

.

.

.

.

Water dripped from my hair, down by neck, and down the back of my black mechanic uniform. Harper wanted us to wear the uniform everyday but sometimes I never really liked to follow his rules. Or anyone else's. But sometimes it was easier just to put it on rather than ruin all your other clothes with grease and oil stains.

I walked from my bathroom and stepped into my timberlands. I went through the normal movements of getting ready but never stopped watching the blonde girl from the corner of my eye. I ignored the fact that I was being purposefully quiet to keep from waking her.

Breakfast was just a frozen waffle…which remained frozen due to my own laziness and I ate it while thinking.

I was slightly relieved that I didn't have to worry about the girl finding anything questionable during her little cleaning episode. I'd stashed all the loot in a safe in Boomer's apartment. I knew he'd keep it secret and I didn't have a place for it all in my own pad.

And I guess I didn't mind my apartment being clean…although now I'd never find anything…

"Now for you," I sighed as I turned to the girl still slumped uncomfortably against my pullout couch.

Man was she a heavy sleeper.

I walked over to her with every intention of waking her up. Really, I did.

Because it was time for her to finally understand.

It was time for her to finally leave me alone.

But as my hand reached out to shake her shoulder I stilled and frowned.

She was tired from staying up and taking care of _me_. And despite the fact that I hadn't asked her to do so, it was still my fault that she was there. And my fault she was so tired.

I cringed at my own weakness and mauled over my options.

If I woke her up I'd just end up chastising her for coming into my apartment uninvited. And then she'd get that crestfallen expression on her face like she did when I'd told her I'd never be her friend. It was like she was three and I'd told her there was no Santa.

And, damn it, I hadn't been awake long enough to deal with that look.

So that's how I found myself lifting her small form with ease in order to lay her fully on the bed. I hooked one arm around her waist and the other under her knees for good leverage. Her body was light and I quickly deposited her to where I'd previously been sleeping only moments before.

She sighed but didn't wake up as she brought her knees up to her chest to curl into a tight ball.

"Dumb girl," I said.

She only shivered slightly in response.

I sighed and straightened from my position and turned to leave. She could let herself out later.

After she woke up.

I opened my door to leave and then stopped. Letting out a low string of curses I turned back around and took quick, long strides towards the bed. Once there I scooped the pink blanket off the ground and spread it carefully on top of the sleeping girl.

She uncurled a bit, comforted by the warmth and I froze as I saw her eyes begin to come open. I swallowed thickly as her light blue came out from behind her blinking lids and met with mine.

"Hi," Her voice was groggy and slow.

"Hey," I said back as if this were just so natural.

"Feel better?" She asked, her eyes struggling to stay open.

"Uh, yeah," I nodded and she smiled tiredly up at me, the sun from the window making her pale skin and tawny hair glow. I tried to find it in me to be mad at her, to tell her off. But in the end I couldn't. Sometimes I disgusted myself.

"Any nightmares?"

"No."

She bit her lip. "Then I did my job, didn't I?"

I said nothing and instead I just stood and waited a beat, ready for her to fully wake up.

But after a moment her eyes that had closed again didn't reopen.

"Later," I told her as if she weren't sleeping like a rock again. I tugged the bottom of the blanket to make sure it completely covered her feet before leaving my apartment for sure, not letting myself look back to see if she was still sleeping or shivering.

It didn't matter.

I didn't care.

But I did make sure I locked my door behind me. Just in case.

Because, after all, she _had_ kept her promise. She'd stayed and kept my nightmares away.

The least I could do was make sure nothing bad could get to her.

--

"You're in a better mood then usual," Harper observed as he handed me a power saw. I looked away from the uneven exhaust pipe, that somehow had been torn off the car, and up at my boss. He stared down at me in my kneeling position, seemingly bored but his eyes were intent.

"Am I?" I asked, taking the tool and turning my back to him.

He didn't get a chance to answer before I flipped the switch and the sound of grinding metal and the flash of sparks filled the air. I could still feel Harper behind me as I worked but eventually he gave up and walked away.

Smart man.

"Aren't we supposed to wear masks when we do stuff like that?" The new guy, Javier, asked after I cut the power and looked down at a slightly smaller exhaust pipe that would hopefully meld together with the other half that was still left on the car.

"Why should we?" I muttered, not mad but just distracted. I squatted and checked to see if everything would work out. Luckily it did.

"The sparks, man," Javier explained. "It burns eyes."

I raised my eyebrow at him, but chuckled good naturedly.

"Man, if you want to buy yourself a mask, be my guest," I offered, shrugging and giving him the saw to hold for a second. He accepted it and watched as I knelt again to line up the muffler back up to be welded. "But if you know what you're doing you'll be fine."

Javier said nothing. If he pressed it it'd seem like he didn't know what he was doing and that wasn't something a mechanic wanting to admit to. So he just smiled a little and set the saw down on the tool cart.

We worked quietly for a while as I welded and he watched. The sounds of drills and saws in the background were familiar and sweat began to drip down my neck as I worked. The static-music from the radio could be faintly heard over the power-tools and an old Van Halen song drifted out from the speakers.

"Butch!" Harper called, sticking his head out of his office door to wave me over.

I frowned at him but he just disappeared back inside. I looked up at Javier who was still looking at Harper's office with a bit of trepidation.

"Can you finish this for me?" I asked, snapping his attention back to me.

"Yeah," Javier nodded, taking over with a nod. "Just don't get me fired if I mess up."

I just shook my head and walked away. Harper's office was open and I peered in, watching as the slightly heavy man shuffled through some papers. He didn't look up at me but I was positive he knew I was there.

"Come in," He said gruffly. "Shut the door."

I did as I was told as well as throwing myself into an uncomfortable chair across from him. He looked up and I just made myself seem comfortable even as the metal chair creaked with my weight.

"You feel better," Harper stated.

"I wasn't aware you were so perceptive," I smirked.

"I make sure I keep an eye on my employees," Harper said, sending me a glare.

"That's not at all creepy," I said sarcastically.

Harper threw a paper weight at me. I caught it reflexively and began bouncing it back in forth in my hands. I watched it hit each of my palms but still I could feel Harper watching _me_.

"Stop checking me out," I said darkly but still couldn't help smirking when I heard him snort.

"You're too damn arrogant kid," Harper said, but he was chuckling.

"Well?" I urged, giving up on the paperweight and letting it fall onto the ground.

Harper seemed to think for a second, rubbing the stubble on his chin as he leaned back in his chair.

"What were you doing this morning?" He asked.

Immediately I felt my defenses go up.

"Why?" I asked, my voice purposely void of emotion and my face a practiced mask of indifference.

"You…" Harper sighed. "You actually seemed to be in a decent mood when you came in this morning."

I raised an eyebrow.

"So?"

"And you had pink sparkles on your hands," He said after a moment.

I sat still, barely avoiding dropping the paperweight onto my foot.

Sparkles?

I looked down at my hands as if I'd never seen them before. And sure as hell, there were sparkles littering my skin among the grease and dirt. I remained carefully calm and blank as I took this all in.

Finally I looked back up at Harper, my demeanor cold and my voice a bit harsh. "As I said before…" I said slowly as I rose fluidly from the chair. "You're creepy. Stop checking me out."

"I was only-" Harper tried to explain, his eyebrows knit together and his eyes showing a bit of annoyance I knew he didn't mean to let through.

"I'm taking off for the day," I said by way of conclusion.

I turned and walked out of the office but stopped by the door. I turned back to look at my boss who sat still and watched me wearily.

"And you can just forget what you think you saw," I said and to drive the point fully home and make sure he understood not to tell anyone about it, I tossed the paperweight back at him. Hard.

I heard him grunt as he barely caught it but I didn't turn around to look as I strode purposefully out of the garage.

Sparkles.

Fucking sparkles.

And I knew exactly what they had been from too.

That damn pink blanket.

--

The whole walk to the diner had only left me more and more pissed with every step I took. The sparkles hadn't wiped off and I'd jammed my hands into my pockets and only occasionally pulled them out when I needed to take a drag of the lit cigarette I was breathing in like a life-line.

"_You_," I said as I walked into the diner.

Bubble's head snapped up from where she was leaned over and wiping a table. Her eyes widened a bit when she recognized me. I ignored the fact that the whole restaurant had gone silent at my appearance and instead I just glared at the blonde.

"Hey," She said quickly, dropping the rag and walking over to where I stood in the doorway.

She didn't seem to notice the quiet either.

I opened my mouth to tell her off. To explain with great force why exactly she needed to leave me alone. What would've happened if it hadn't been Harper who'd seen the crap on my hands? Anyone else would've told the whole city by now and I'd be over.

"Are you okay?" She suddenly asked, her voice low and her eyes wide with what seemed to be outright concern. "What's wrong? Are you feeling sick again? Did something happen?"

I bit my tongue against the onslaught of words that had almost escaped. She just stood, looking up at me and waiting for me to answer and I quickly looked away. What was I about to say?

God I needed another cigarette.

"Just forget it," I muttered darkly, still looking away from her and I was relieved to hear a few people start to continue their previous conversations.

"No Butchy-boy," I heard a familiar voice say. "We really want to hear what this is all about."

_Shit_.

Ace meandered over to where I was still standing in the doorway. I just glared as he approached even though I felt a lot like slugging him. His stupid smirk could really piss me off sometimes.

"How are you man?" Ace asked, hitting my back. I couldn't see his eyes from behind his damn sunglasses but I could practically see them trail over to the blonde who was now standing a bit awkwardly beside me.

"Um," Bubbles said a bit nervously. "I should get back to work…if everything is okay."

She looked at me with a dumb unsure look in her eyes and I felt like turning around and just walking back outside.

"Stay around waitress-girl, you can have lunch with us," Ace was wearing that shit-eating grin and I could tell he was watching for my reaction, trying to figure out if I was getting annoyed. I stared blankly at him.

"Um…I really can't," Bubbles cast another look at me and I realized she was waiting for my reaction too. I really just wanted to turn around and leave.

"My table's over there," Ace explained, completely ignoring the short blonde's response and she frowned at him. I looked over to where Ace was pointing to see an empty booth with some half-eaten food.

I didn't really feel hungry.

I just felt like punching something.

Ace just had to be there didn't he? Usually I was smart enough to look around before I acted on impulse but I'd been too pissed at the blonde to even think about that. And now I'd just have to listen to Ace badger and taunt me as he ate.

He loved to see me lose my cool.

"Get back to work Betty," I said to her while I watched Ace watch me.

The blonde looked like she was about to argue but then she remembered that she was supposed to be working anyway. She walked away slowly, throwing me one last concerned look that I pointedly ignored.

"Come on," Ace grinned. "Let's eat."

--

"So…" Ace said as he leaned back against the back of the booth. I scanned the diner and took stock. There were a few young punks at another booth but they were no real threat and everyone else were just the regular tired workers on lunch breaks.

I relaxed minutely, satisfied that there'd be no one here that might try to start something with either Ace or me. Even though I felt like punching someone, something told me the blonde waitress who kept walking back and forth out of the kitchen would make a nuisance of herself during a fight.

"You look like shit," I said gruffly and Ace only smiled. He reached up to touch his five-o'clock shadow.

"Yeah, I didn't exactly rest much last night," He explained. "My boys and I went drinking for most the night and when I got home Jazz wouldn't go to sleep she was so busy telling me about her day."

I smirked, glad that Ace's little sister had kept him up. He'd been raising his sister since she was a baby and sometimes that little girl could get annoying. But it was always fun to watch her try Ace's patience. Mostly because he couldn't deny her anything. Which meant if she wanted to tell him every detail about her day…she was going to tell him everything about her day.

"But enough about me," Ace said while waving his hand. "What's with the blonde chick? You going after married girls now?"

I opened my mouth to cuss him out, my last string of patience about to break, but I immediately shut my mouth again.

_What?_

"Don't tell me you didn't notice the ring?" Ace laughed, somehow able to read my confusion. "You better not be getting sloppy on me now, Butchy-boy. I don't need you turning into a has-been the moment we get all the power."

I glared at him, but made sure not to show any emotion other than irritation.

_Was_ I getting sloppy?

I usually caught on to shit like that.

"Betty!" I barked suddenly and the blonde jumped about a mile high, almost dropping all the dishes stacked on her arm.

She looked over at me, startled, before setting the plates down at their respectable table and smiling apologetically at the customers. She straitened and whipped her hands against her apron before walking over to my booth.

"Yes?" She asked, but she'd unknowingly already answered my unasked question.

I'd caught the flash of a diamond as she'd whipped her uniform down.

Ace was right. She was married.

And I wasn't quite sure why that made me feel so restless.

I ignored a sudden burning in my stomach, cursing my frozen breakfast, and forced an impending frown off my face. I wasn't so much mad she was married, because why the hell would I care?

I was just mad at myself for not noticing. How could I have not seen the ring before?

Now it was agonizingly obvious as I stared at the gawky diamond weighing down her small finger. I felt the urge to say some snide remark about it. To make her squirm and get upset.

"Butch, I think the lady wants to know why you called her over here so harsly," I could hear the smirk in Ace's words and I felt rage boil low in my gut. I _really_ wanted to hit something now.

"I didn't know you were married," I said casually. Too casually. Bubbles just frowned, obviously confused as to what that had to do with anything.

_All this because I was pissed off about some damn sparkles..._

"I'm not married," She said slowly, watching me like I was some kind of alien. I didn't fail to notice a faint blush rise up her neck. "I'm engaged."

"Ah," Ace smiled. "That's nice. More food please."

Bubbles frowned at his clear dismissal and again looked over at me. Her blue eyes were clearly worried and it sickened me to realize she was worried about me. "What would you like to eat?"

"Another burger," Ace said and I just stared blankly down at the table. I still wasn't hungry but I had a bad taste in my mouth that I couldn't seem to lose.

"Make that two," I said, looking stonily into her light blue eyes that seemed to only widen with more confusion.

I must've been pretty sick to have missed that damn, big-ass ring.

"Okay…" She mumbled. Looking from me, to Ace, then back to me again.

"Go now," Ace said, still smiling.

"But why-" Bubbles tried to fathom.

"_Now_," I emphasized, still pissed at…everything.

"Fine," She huffed, obviously annoyed but biting her tongue.

She turned on heel and stomped away and I glared after her, watching the sway of her hips as she walked angrily into the kitchen and out of my sight.

Finally.

"So…" Ace laughed. "You _are_ getting sloppy."

I sent him my best glare and I felt proud to see his confident smile falter a bit.

We sat silently as we waited for our food. I strummed my fingers against the tabletop with agitation, before finally pulling out a cigarette and lighting up. Ace glanced down at the pack of Kool's in my hand and frowned.

"Those are damn nasty," He said. "And I don't think you're allowed to smoke in here."

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Right," He laughed as he unrolled his sleeve where a pack of Camels were kept. "This is the only decent brand." He said pointedly while digging his lighter out of his back pocket and sparking it up.

I watched Bubbles from the corner of my eye as she walked towards us with our food. I felt like grinning when her nose wrinkled up at the smell and sight of the smoke.

"You can't smoke in here, Butch," She said softly when she reached my side and I just watched the plate of food slide in front of me. Her diamond ring caught the light and seemed to mock me.

Damn that was one big ring. _How had I not seen it_?

"Excuse Butchy-boy," Ace's glasses glinted as he looked up at her and her blue eyes briefly went over to him before I felt them land on me again. "He isn't a big talker. But you probably already knew that."

Bubbles and I both looked over at Ace this time and I watched him avoid my hard stare. What was he playing at?

"Um…_what_?" Bubbles asked slowly and again a blush worked its way across her cheeks and down her neck. It was all too easy to picture the blush spreading lower, under the collar of her uniform and across her-

"Nothing," Ace just grinned and I felt my left fist clench as I took another drag from my cigarette. "Nothing at all, honey."

I willed myself patience. I willed Bubbles not to say anything dumb.

In the end I should've known both were pointless wishes.

"Okay, well I hope you enjoy your burgers," She said with an awkward smile at us both before her eyes settles on me. "Oh, and Butch I forgot my blanket in your apartment, can I just pick it up later?"

I heard Ace choke on a laugh and a giant expel of smoke pooled from him mouth.

Shit.

"Are you okay?" Bubbles asked quickly, patting Ace on his back which seemed to only put him a bit further into hysterics. I just scowled deeper.

"Just get it later," I said, my voice was low but could still be heard over Ace's laughter. I put my cigarette out against the top bun of my hamburger before standing up to leave. "Ace here will get the check."

Ace just grinned up at me.

Bastard.

I had half the mind to pull him out into the parking lot and knock that grin off his face. In fact, I was half-way reaching for his shirt collar to do just that when Bubble's hand came to rest on the crook of my arm.

I stilled instantly and glared over at her. She seemed a little put off by my look but I saw a trace of determination light up in the blue of her eyes.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" She asked, smiling slightly in a failed attempt to hide her concern. I felt like rolling my eyes. "You seem…jumpy."

I shook her hand off me.

It was her damn left hand with the giant fucking ring.

I didn't answer and instead I just turned and strode out of the restaurant, banging the door open and feeling irritated in my own skin and itching for a fight. I had known that blonde would be nothing but an annoyance from the moment I met her. Now I only had to figure out why the heck she was getting to me.

I knew tons of annoying people. Boomer and Ace came to mind.

But still that stupid blonde seemed to make me pissed off more often then not.

Well, at least her ring did.

Maybe that was what made me so irritated.

I mean, I hadn't even noticed the thing.

I dug out another cigarette and lit it up, feeling instantly better but still ticked off.

I looked around the city. I was on top of the food chain, right? Maybe it was about time I showed people why.

I smirked and my thumb strummed the side of my leg at the idea of a fight. It was just what I needed.

And I doubted anyone would notice the sparkles if I was pounding them into the ground.

--

_Can you see that I am needing  
Begging for so much more  
Than you could ever give  
And I don't want you to adore me  
Don't want you to ignore me_

--

**Wow, haha, has it really been that long since my last post?…..heh. Sorry.**

**Well:**

**Jazz is Ace's sister, surprise! Did anyone catch that? Butch found out about Bubble's engagement...and didn't exactly seem to like it. But when oh when will he let himself realize why?**

**Next chapter: Bubbles goes to play tennis with Andy…and so does Butch?**

**OH! And on my profile I have picture of how I view the characters in my story. This is my opinion and no one else has to picture them like that. It's just the way I see them as I type.**

**Anyway….there you go! Better late then never I hope!**


	8. Breathe Me

Jazz is Ace's sister, surprise

"I'll meet you there at two," I repeated as I tried to balance the phone between my ear and my shoulder while simultaneously trying to dress. Which, if you haven't done that before, is a lot harder then you think. Especially if you're prone to tripping like me.

"Come a few minutes earlier," Andy said and I could hear the sounds of Aretha Franklin singing 'Respect' from his end of the line. He must be listening to that CD his mom gave him last Christmas. "It's only fair to the club seeing as they're reserving us a court."

"We have tennis courts at my Dad's house," I reminded him. "And your house too."

"But my boss wanted to play at the country club," Andy explained while I finally managed to get my white tennis skirt up my legs and to my hips. The pleated material brushed my thighs and I felt goose bumps rise up from the cool air of my apartment.

Jeez, the warm weather sure went away fast. I'd have to turn my heater on soon.

"Well I'd hate to upset your boss," I giggled into my phone. I plopped down onto my couch and tugged on my socks.

"That's my girl," He said warmly back. "I'll see you soon. I'm heading over there now so there's no way I'm late."

"Good idea," I acknowledged. "You're a smart, smart man. How on earth did I ever find you?"

"Oh, I'm the lucky one," Andy said quickly, modestly, and I bit my lip. "You're amazing. And are you sure you don't want me to pick you up on my way there? You don't have a car remember?"

I looked out my window to the city outside.

It wasn't exactly the place for Andy. It was hardly the place for me.

"That's okay," I assure him. "I'm out of your way anyway. I'll just catch a cab and meet you there."

"Just make sure to get there on time. It'll look bad if you don't arrive a bit early," Andy sighed.

"Gotcha!" I giggled. I slipped my feet into my plain white tennis shoes.

"Well I love you," Andy's voice came.

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"Ops! Someone's at my door Andy," I said apologetically. "I'll see you soon!"

I hung up the phone after Andy's quick goodbye and immediately jumped over my small coffee table to get to my door. I looked out the peep hole and saw no one there and frowned.

Maybe it was those troublesome boys that had stuck that metal ball into my lock.

I unchained my lock and opened my door.

"Bubbles!" A young voice yelled before latching to my leg. I looked down, startled, to see the top of Jazz's head as she buried into the front of my pristine white skirt.

"Hey Jazz," I smiled, placing my hand on top of her head. "I couldn't see you before."

"That's 'cause I'm too short," She replied frankly as she pulled away from me to look up into my eyes.

"Oh," I giggled.

"Why are you wearing that?" She asked, looking at my entirely white ensemble. I touched my stomach and felt the knitted material of my white sweater and smiled shyly.

"I'm going to play tennis," I explained, biting my lip. "Do you think I look alright?"

Jazz tilted her head and looked at me with great consideration. Her messy dark hair spilled into her big eyes as she took at my snowy outfit.

"I like it," She said finally. "But it's a funny outfit."

I shrugged and stepped out into the hallway. I reached back and locked my door before shutting it behind me.

"It's a tennis outfit," I told her after my door clicked shut.

She was quiet for a moment. And then, "I've never played tennis."

"I'm not too good at it," I admitted. I looked down the hall. "Does Ms. Peterson know you're out here?"

"Not really," Jazz's brown eyes lowered to the floor and she scuffed her shoe against the ground with embarrassment. "I was hoping you could watch me instead."

I grinned and kneeled down in front of her. I lightly brushed her unruly hair from her face whilst contemplating. She really was a pretty girl, and she was so sweet too. And I felt bad for her since she was obviously dropped off at Ms. Peterson's a lot.

"I can't really watch you Jazz, I'm sorry," I sighed, pulling my hands into my lap. "I should actually be leaving soon."

"Oh," She said, her face falling a bit. "Okay."

I bit my lip and frowned.

It wouldn't hurt if I didn't leave immediately. I could still make it on time…

"Do you want me to stay with you for a little while?" I asked. This girl was really growing on me and I hated the thought of her being shoved off on an already busy woman.

She looked up and me with a small, hesitant smile. "Would that be alright?"

I grinned. "It'd be wonderful."

--

I ran down the steps of my apartment building, taking two at a time and narrowly missing colliding with a few people. I felt myself almost fall a couple of times but caught myself on the rail and continued at my rapid pace.

"Oh no," I muttered. "Oh no, oh no, oh no!"

It was a half hour until I was supposed to be at the country club and I hadn't called a cab or anything yet. I had known I couldn't be late or else I'd ruin everything but somehow I'd let time slip right past me.

I burst out of the building quickly, almost tripping over an older lady sitting in a lawn chair on the stoop. I'd seen her there a few times but she'd barely ever returned my hellos and she never seemed to want to chat. From the look she gave me I could tell that she didn't want to be barreled over either.

"Watch it!" She said sharply, her long gray hair falling over shoulder as she turned to glower at me.

"I'm so sorry!" I said quickly, kneeling down to pick up a glass of what I assumed was lemonade that I'd knocked over. "Oh jeez, I am so sorry! I didn't even see you. I'm just so late and I don't even know how I'm going to get there…and the steps…and a cab…and I just couldn't slow down and I'm _so_ sorry!"

I babbled a bit and then I felt her hand smack callously against my mouth.

My eyes widened.

"Quiet child," She said as she removed her hand from my now stinging lips. "Now look, you've gone and ruined my lemonade."

I felt a bit of resentment rise up in me just as it used to when I'd get into fights with girls at the private school I'd attended. I'd always hated to get smacked and it took a bit of effort not to lash out at the old woman.

I mean, come on, she just smacked me!

"Mrs. Botstein," I heard a deep voice say from behind me. I stood up quickly and turned to see Butch walking briskly up the steps towards us. His eyes were trained the old woman, ignoring me completely.

"Butch," The woman acknowledged as she crossed her arms and looked backed out at the street.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, still not looking at me.

"That little brat practically knocked me over," The old woman said testily, hardly even sparing Butch or me a glance.

"So you smacked her?" Butch's question startled me and looked over at him in shock.

_He'd seen that?_

Mrs. Botstein looked over at Butch with a bit of reproach. I swallowed, hoping she wouldn't say anything mean to him when he didn't do anything to deserve it.

"You'd have smacked her too," She said plainly. "She knocked over my lemonade."

Butch grinned bitterly. "It's fucking lemonade. Get the hell over it."

A stony silence hung in the air and I watched Mrs. Botstein stare coldly at Butch. I felt an odd urge to step in front of him even though I was probably the last person he wanted to defend him.

He didn't seem to want _anyone_ to defend him.

"Um, sorry again about the lemonade," I said, edging my way towards the steps. "I really have to go now."

"Watch yourself next time," The old woman warned me, her worn face forming a frown as she looked away from me and glared out at the street. "Don't do it again."

"She'll do as she pleases," Butch told her. I felt cold at the cutting edge of his voice, even though he hadn't even been talking to me. His green eyes were glaring at the older woman who sat still and proud beneath his gaze.

"Butch," I said hesitantly, my hand moving on its own accord and fisting itself in his sleeve. "Come on." I mumbled, tugging slightly.

He stood still for a moment, ignoring my slight pleading but eventually his eyes slid to mine. I swallowed and smiled shyly at him. I tugged his sleeve again and soon we were both descending the steps and were walking away from the stoop where the old woman sat glaring after us.

We were silent as we walked a little ways down the sidewalk and I let my hand drop back to my side.

I shifted awkwardly. I hadn't seen him since his hasty retreat from the diner and I hated to admit I'd been avoiding him. He seemed agitated with me even after I'd helped him that night he was sick I'd assumed we'd be alright. But he'd acted so odd at the diner, a weird mix between pissed off an uncaring.

I figured I'd just let him have some room. But now…

A humorless laugh broke from Butch's throat. It's cold, dry rasp startled me a bit. "I can't believe I just got mad at an old lady." Disbelief colored his deep tone.

I giggled. "I can't believe you defended me against an old lady."

He sighed. "Well what were you thinking, letting her smack you like that?"

"It's not like I asked her to," I said defensively. "She just got annoyed with my talking, I guess, and just tried to make me stop. It surprised me, to be honest. I've never been hit by an old lady before, and man did that one pack a punch."

He stopped suddenly and I halted as well. I raised an eyebrow at him but he said nothing. Instead his hand came up and grabbed my chin gently, the rough pads of his fingers brushing my skin as he angled my face up towards him. For a moment I couldn't breathe and I stood paralyzed as his thumb traced my lips that still throbbed softly with the dull ache of being hit.

"It won't bruise," He said finally and he released my chin and I breathed in deeply. His eyes met mine and I saw golden flecks against the green irises. There was a slight bump in the bridge of his nose.

"Oh," Was all that came from my mouth. I took a large step back from him, forcing myself to think of...well..._nothing_.

"So where exactly are you rushing off to?" He asked, eyeing my outfit now and seemingly unaware of my discomfort.

"Oh I just…" I trailed off and brought my hand up to my eyes as if I were hiding. "Oh no! A cab! I need a cab!"

Butch just raised an eyebrow and watched as I began looking frantically around. There weren't many cars on the street and there weren't any cabs at all. I began to breathe heavily.

Wasn't this the city? There's supposed to be cabs here, right?

"Where are the cabs?" I asked Butch, raising my voice slightly as if it were his fault there weren't any taxis. He just continued to watch me with barely concealed amusement. "I'm serious Butch!"

"Cabs don't come downtown too often," He said with a careless shrug, acting as if I wasn't having a meltdown. "And when they do they rarely stop."

I stared at him, mortified. I felt like lying down on the dirty sidewalk and simply giving up…

Blossom had always said I was a bit dramatic…

"How do_ you_ get around?" Dear lord, my voice sounded shrill. My eyes scanned the street. There was a bus stop on the corner and I contemplating running to it. I mean, I couldn't be late.

"I walk," He shrugged, looking around in boredom. "Or drive."

My head snapped toward him.

"You have a car?" I asked.

"Do you need a car?" He replied.

"Yes!" I said, stepping closer to him and poked him in the center of his chest. "Answer me, do you have a car?"

"Sometimes," He said vaguely and I felt like hitting him. _Sometimes_?

"I'll give you fifty bucks if you let me borrow your car," I said without preamble. I wasn't even sure if I had fifty bucks.

Butch raised both of his eyebrows and his eyes darkened with consideration. I watched him frown down at me and I prayed he'd just hand me over the keys and take an IOU.

"I helped you when you were sick," I threw out, hoping it'd convince him.

"I didn't ask you to," He retaliated and I frowned.

"Well…I did anyway, so you still owe me!" I contemplated crying but that probably would've just annoyed him.

"Fine."

"But I-" I paused. "Wait, what? You're helping me?"

"I said fine, didn't I?" He shrugged. "I'll give you a ride."

I grinned, not having expected him to give up so early. Hello progress, my name is Bubbles!

He began walking away, his hands shoved deep into his jean pockets and his shoulders drawn tight. I took that as my cue and followed, taking long strides in order to keep close to his heels. We turned left down a random street, right between two buildings, and then came into a large alley filled with about six cars that were all a light blue color.

"Um, why do you park here?" I asked, my arms coming up to hug myself. This alley was very…dirty…and murky…and…scary.

"I don't," He replied nonchalantly as he walked over to a blue car that looked slightly familiar.

"You don't," I repeated. _I could've caught the bus by now_.

Instead of replying he simply tugged the door handle. When it didn't open a few murmured curses fell from his lips, making me blush.

"I'm getting the feeling that isn't your car Butch," I swallowed as I watched him closely.

He looked at me over his shoulder, his face stoic and his eyes dark.

This definitely wasn't his car.

"I'm really late," I told him, but I didn't move to leave. Which is dumb. Leaving is always the best option.

"Are you scared?" He asked me without turning to make sure I was there. He was looking around the wet, gravel ground for something. A thin cat on top of a trashcan hissed at him.

"Scared of what?" I asked, stepping closer to him with…interest? Anticipation?

"Of stealing a car," He said simply, his eyes meeting mine and his lips curling up slightly.

For some reason that didn't startle me. Somehow I had already known that that was exactly what he was doing. What _we_ were doing. And still I stood there. Still my heart pounded with a weird sort of expectancy.

Dear God, _wake up_ Bubbles!

"The bus will be fine," I said quickly. And it would be. Anything would be better than stealing a car for…what? Tennis?

"Then go catch the bus," He said. "But I need a car."

I looked over my shoulder to the mouth of the alley and bit my lip. I looked back at Butch.

"This is a crime," I said.

"The crime here," Butch laughed humorlessly as he walked towards a pile of trash. "Is that all these cars are just sitting here, not being used. It's a shame."

I laughed and shook my head. Why wasn't I leaving? Why wasn't I calling the cops? And why, dear lord, was I not scared?

Butch picked up a wooden board from the pile and twirled it in his grip a bit as he made his way back towards the red car he'd been messing with before. He stopped by it and looked over at me and I tilted my head.

"Still need a ride?" He asked, all the while asking so much more. Like, '_Still want to be my friend? Still want to say you're not scared? Still think you're cut out for life in the city?'_

"Yes." I said simply, without stopping to…well, _think_. His lips lifted a bit to form his odd smile and I looked steadily back at him.

He didn't stop to hesitate before lifting the board and bringing it down harshly against the passenger window. The glass shattered and fell like rain against the concrete and interior of the car. I flinched from the sound and by the time I stopped looking around to see if anyone else heard it Butch had already opened the door.

"Get in," Butch said calmly despite the fact that he was hurriedly brushing glass shards off the seat obviously intended for me. "Now."

At once I began to jog towards the open door just as angry shouts and the sound of dogs barking came from inside the building closest to the car. Butch slammed the door close after me and I gripped the edge of my seat as fear finally caught up to me.

What the hell was I doing?

Every inch of sense screamed for me to hop out of the car and run for high ground.

Butch knocked on the driver's window briskly and I threw myself across the gear shift and pulled his lock up. He got in smoothly and leaned down beneath the wheel. I watched in morbid fascination as he began to hotwire the car.

"I thought people only did this in movies," I laughed breathlessly. My hands were shaking with adrenaline. No, my whole **body** was shaking with adrenaline.

Suddenly the engine sprang to life and before I could blink Butch had sped out of the alley, spraying water and little rocks at the group of men that had came crashing out of the building. I turned in my seat to see their unhappy faces screaming after us.

"Holy shit," I whispered, stunned by what just happened. What Butch just did. What _I_ just did.

"You should sit down," Butch's voice reached me and I turned slowly back to face the front. Butch weaved through the steadily increasing traffic at an almost break-neck speed.

"Holy shit!" I repeated, my voice half way between a gasp and a disbelieving laugh.

A low chuckle came from beside me and looked over to see Butch laughing softly, his eyes trained on the road and his hand shifting the car into a faster gear. I blinked over at him, and then looked out the window as well.

"I can't believe I just did that," I said, shocked. "I can't believe _we_ just did that!"

Butch merely went faster, speeding through a light just as it turned red.

"Um," I drew my feet up into the seat and turned to face him. "_Why_ exactly did we do that again?"

"Is your mind just now catching up with you?" He asked, guessing.

I laughed. "Yeah, I honestly can't believe I'm in a stolen car. I should be screaming and begging to get out by now."

"You did well," His eyes met mine and I blinked at him, my mouth forming a smile. "For your first time."

"Only time," I said firmly. "And if we get caught…I'll…I don't know…_die_…"

"We won't get caught," He assured me and I just gave him a look that clearly said I didn't believe him. "They won't call the cops."

"Why not?" I asked, my hands still shaking and the wind from the busted window caught my hair and sent it whipping around me.

"They probably stole this car to begin with," He replied with a casual shrug. "The police won't be involved, trust me."

Oddly enough I did.

He stole a car. And I trusted him.

"Okay, James Dean, Mr. Rebel-Without-A-Cause, do you know where you're driving me?" I teased as I adjusted in the seat and buckled myself in.

"Judging from your outfit and the size of your engagement ring," Butch began. "I'd say we're heading uptown, for the country club."

"You should be a detective," I smiled. "Or a superhero."

Butch merely sneered and I giggled.

"Or not."

"You're boyfriend's loaded?" He asked, but it wasn't exactly a question seeing as he'd already guessed.

"Yes," I nodded. "My _fiancée_ is."

He ran his hand through his thick black hair and I noticed his knuckles were bruised and scuffed. I swallowed and looked back at his slightly bent nose. So my new friend/partner in crime seemed to fight a lot.

Figures.

"Those men we just stole this car from," I began, the words shockingly coming easily from my lips. As if it were so normal. "Are they the ones who messed up your hand?"

"My hand," Butch corrected. "Messed up _their_ faces."

I giggled. "So this was all for revenge."

"Or boredom."

"They were the ones who drove by us the other day, weren't they?" I asked. "When we were walking home from the diner. They seemed as if they liked you then, what happened?"

Butch looked over at me, his green eyes narrowed. "You catch on quick."

I fought down a smile as his small, offhand comment made me preen.

"They're the Audley Boys," He said after a minute of driving in silence. "They're a local gang."

"A gang," Fear made my voice tight. "We just stole a car from a gang? Oh no, I'm going to get shot. This is it! This is the end. I haven't even been to Milan yet! Oh boy, I'm so screwed. All because I didn't want to be late! Darn adrenaline rush and…faulty reasoning."

Butch was watching me in amusement and I sent him a half-hearted glare before looking out the window. I was going to die. A gang!?

"They're nothing to worry about," Butch's voice carried over the sound of the wind rushing inside. He wasn't comforting me, just informing. "I just went and picked a fight with them the other day. They aren't a threat, just annoying neighborhood boys who all drive around in blue cars and pretend to be tough. They're just boys who play with guns."

I swallowed. "Bad things happen when boys play with guns."

"Nothing bad will happen to you."

I looked over at him but he was looking ahead at the road, his cheeks darkened peculiarly and his left hand's grip on the steering wheel was tight. He looked briefly over at me from the corner of his eyes and I just smiled softly.

"'_Nothing bad will happen to you,_' he said mysteriously as he drove swiftly down the road in the stolen car," I giggled mockingly. Butch looked over at me, his face stoic but his eyes amused.

"You're odd," He told me.

"Yes, well I must be," I shrugged. "Or else I wouldn't be in this car."

He just shook his head and turned back towards the road. I laughed and flicked on the radio as we drove rapidly closer to the country club.

--

Butch let out a low whistle as we pulled into the Townsville Country Club's drive. He shifted the car into a lower gear and leaned forward over the steering wheel to get a better look.

"It's pretty, right?" I asked.

"It's horrible," Butch said harshly. "It's so…fake."

I looked at the tall hedges, the green grass, the white building with tall columns. Okay, so it was a little overdone. But he didn't have to be so mean about it. Ever since the city had begun to thin out and the buildings had gotten nicer he'd started to get even more and more agitated and rude.

"It can be a little suffocating," I admitted. "But you shouldn't talk bad about it until you've been inside."

"You seriously like this place?" He asked, his low voice a bit incredulous. His green eyes met my blue ones and I stared evenly back at him.

Technically…I hated this place. It was the location of the many parties, activities, and miserable events I'd been forced to attend while growing up. But, well, I didn't exactly feel like admitting that. I mean, after all the places I'd seen in the city, this place probably looked like Disney Land.

"It's alright," I said briskly.

We slowed to a stop as we approached the short line for the valet.

"I can just get out here," I said, reaching for the handle. "Thank you for the ride. And the mini heart attack. And…the crime spree."

"Anytime."

"Stay out of trouble while I'm gone, okay?" I teased. "I wouldn't want my partner in crime to get sent off to jail and me not know about it."

"You're partner in crime is just going to drive around for a while," He told me.

"Showing off?" I smiled.

He smirked.

"Would you…"I hesitated. "Would you like to join us? Playing tennis I mean."

"I'd rather go to jail," He scoffed.

I jumped a mile when a soft knock came from Butch's window. He frowned and slowly wound the window down.

"Hello Miss Utonium," Said the valet, a young man in a red vest, as he leaned down and peered into the car. "How are you today?"

"Good, thank you," I said with a smile.

"You're fiancé is waiting for you in the lobby," He said, casting Butch a curious look but his bright smile didn't falter. "He said to-"

"Utonium," Butch cut in, ignoring the young man and watching me with intense indifference that I knew was just a mask. "Your dad is Professor Utonium? That millionaire scientist?"

"Um…well…yes?"

"Will your friend be staying Miss Utonium?" The valet asked, a bit unsure.

"Uh-"

"You're a millionaire?" Butch continued, his voice leaning on…angry? Heh.

"Well, technically it's my father's mon-" I tried, shifting awkwardly under both Butch's and the valet's expecting looks.

"Why the hell do you live in the city? In Favela Apartments none the less," Butch pushed. I frowned at him.

"I've heard a lot of people ask that actually," The young man, still leaning into the car, stated. "It's quite unordinary."

"It's not like-" I tried again.

"So you're just a little rich girl who got bored and decided to hang around the city?" Butch asked.

"What? No!" I was yelling now. "That's not it at all. Besides, you drove me here. It's not like you didn't know I had money."

"Yeah, this is a pretty high-end place," The valet—what was his name?—agreed with a nod.

"Your fiancé," Butch's voice was lower then normal. It was rough and deep and manly and again my adrenaline was pumping with the fight that was obviously upon us. "I thought it was your _fiancé_ that had the money. I thought you just-"

"You thought I was some kind of gold-digger?" My hands balled into fists and my eyes narrowed. "You thought I was with him because of the money, huh? Is that it?"

"Ouch," The young man said.

"Well," Butch growled. "It wasn't as if you were upfront about what was going on."

"You never asked me!" I shouted.

"He shouldn't have to ask," The valet sighed.

"Shut-up!"

"Shut-up!" –Both Butch and I yelled at once.

"Hey!" The young man said while grinning and adjusting his red vest, "I'm just doing my job. Am I parking this car or are you just dropping her off?"

"Dropping me off," I said, glaring witheringly at Butch.

"You're parking it," Butch said at the same time.

We stared icily at each other before both grabbing the door handles and jumping out of the idling vehicle. I tugged on the edge of my skirt in annoyance as I saw the valet jump into the car and buckle up.

"There's no keys," The young man's voice reached me and I froze, looking over the hood of the car at Butch. My heart pinched with fear.

"Just park it," Butch said in annoyance. The valet looked over at me, seemingly oblivious to the lack of a passenger window.

"How do I turn it off once I park it?" He asked.

"See all those wires under the steering wheel?" I asked, my voice agitated. "Just pull a few."

And with that I spun on my heel and walked towards the door where my nice, calm, normal, safe fiancé would be waiting for me. I felt confident that the valet was too slow to catch onto all the hints that the car was stolen. I felt confident that my anger and uncertain behavior would be forgotten after the tennis game. And I felt confident…as Butch followed after me…

Into the country club…

While wearing timberlands and a ratty t-shirt…

…Crap.

--

"Listen Butch," I said, grabbing his tanned arm and pulling him into a small crook before we came into view of the lobby.

Butch looked down at me, his face close and his mouth tight with obvious frustration. I swallowed.

"I just…" I frowned. "I'm sorry if you think I lied to you. I would have told you about my father if I thought you'd care. You just didn't seem to care…ever…and…do you care?"

Butch sighed, looking moodily away from me and I gripped his arm tighter, my nails digging into the sinewy muscle of his arm. He flinched minutely but didn't break his resolve.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," I continued, looking down at my scuffed white tennis shoes. "I mean, I understand if you leave. You're mad and all."

"If you get to pretend to be poor then I get to pretend to be rich," He said and I sighed, letting go of his arm and ignoring the red nail marks I left.

"I'm not pretending," I told him. "I'm poor. Honest. I have no money of my own."

"But your dad-"

"Is amazing," I finished for him. "And I love him. But I have no freedom. I've never had any freedom. Every day here in this country club and at home inside that tall fence…I feel caged. I feel suffocated. That's why I left."

I swallowed.

"I'm not pretending to be poor," I said honestly. "If anything I'm just pretending to be free, because after this is over and once I get married…I'll be back here again. All over again."

He was looking at me.

I could feel his eyes staring at the top of my head and I bit my lip. Why had I told him that? Why?

Why had I stolen that car with him? Why did I trust him? Why was I here with him now?

Suddenly his large hands were gripping the top of my arms. They were rough and calloused and warm and I felt melty.

"You don't have to pretend," He whispered from somewhere very close to my ear and the hairs on the back of my neck rose and my whole body become home to a million goosebumps. And at first I felt as if he were saying something completely wrong, completely horrible, and completely enticing…but alas…"No one should have to pretend to be free."

I closed my eyes, because, well…I'd interpreted that completely wrong, hadn't I?

He released me and I looked up at him, frowning.

"You still want to play tennis?" I asked, a bit unsure of…_everything._

He winked at me, his odd smirk tugging his lips. "Partners in crime, right?"

--

"Bubbles!" Andy's voice called warmly from where he sat on a plush couch beside two slightly older aristocratic people.

I smiled brightly at him and he stood as I approached.

"It feels like I haven't seen you in forever!" Andy said as he pulled me lightly against his chest for a brief hug. "You're hair's a wreck." He whispered in my ear before releasing me.

"Hello dear," The woman (Andy's boss's wife I assumed) rose from the coach with a smile. Her eyes were steely blue and her face was tanned and her cheeks were painted pink. "I'm Marylyn Ockley. You must be Bubbles Utonium. We've heard so much about you."

I smiled politely whilst trying to tame my wild hair. Driving 100 miles per hour through the city must've made me look like a heathen. Embarrassing!

Mrs. Ockley was watching me suspiciously. Her chrome-like blonde hair was pulled elaborately into a sporty twist and her red lips pulled up into a tight smile. I looked away from her, feeling transparent as always.

"Mr. Ockley I presume?" I giggled lamely at the slightly balding man still sitting on the couch. His large stomach stretched his white playing shorts tightly. He ignored me though. "Um…right…well I'm Bubbles."

But he wasn't listening to me.

He wasn't even watching me.

"What are you doing here, boy?" Mr. Ockley's voice was immediately annoying to me. Much too snooty and gravely. And I fought down a frown at his question as suddenly we all turned to stare at Butch…who I had momentarily forgotten about.

Butch, for his part, was looking around the lobby with a small frown. His forest green eyes took in the dark wood, the hanging lights, the grand piano, and the many workers lined up to help. He seemed comfortable but I noticed his thumb was tapping against his leg in apparent nervousness.

"You!" Mr. Ockley pressed, louder this time. His bushy eyebrows drew together as he watched Butch turn and look at him.

"What?" Butch asked shortly. I groaned softly, wishing to rewind and just do this whole day over again.

"Can we help you?" Andy asked diplomatically. He'd obviously missed the fact that Butch had come in trailing after me.

"Probably not," Butch asked, looking Andy over. He obviously didn't care for what he saw because his shoulders tightened and his eyes darkened.

"This is Butch!" I said, my voice a bit louder than intended and a few people looked over at me. I laughed nervously. "Um, I was just thinking…well…he gave me a ride, so I just assumed it would be alright if-"

"You thought he could play tennis with us?" Mrs. Ockley asked, smiling in a way where I didn't believe for one second that she was happy.

"Would that be alright?" I asked nervously, casting Andy a look and he smiled charmingly at me although he did seem a bit unsure.

"Of course!" Mrs. Ockley said boisterously. "I'll just go get that delightful Dr. Parker and see if he'd like to join up with us too. He's such a wonderful man, well off too, right dear?"

Mr. Ockley just grunted, watching Butch as if he would pounce at him at any moment. Butch for his part looked wonderfully indifferent to the questioning stares he was receiving from everyone who laid eyes on him.

Mrs. Ockley grabbed my elbow and pulled me a bit.

"Us girls are going to go off to get us another player," She told anyone who was listening. "You men stay here and get Mr…"

"Sawyer," Butch answered, meeting her eyes briefly.

Sawyer? Was that his last name?

"You men stay here and get Mr. Sawyer some tennis equipment and get him dressed up. It seems as if Miss Utonium forgot to," She laughed and I blushed as I was pulled away from the group of men.

Mr. Ockley stared untrustingly at Butch, Butch watched Andy with a mask of indifference, and Andy stood smiling and watching me leave with a small wave.

Psh. Men.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Ockley," I said genuinely. "I'm sorry for being late and making us get another partner. I didn't intend-"

"I think it's wonderful," Mrs. Ockley laughed. "He's a boy from the city right?"

"Well, yes," I mumbled.

"I do love charity work," She shrugged. "And I'll admit, at first I was weary to meet the girl who threw away everything in order to trudge headfirst into the city. I hadn't realized you'd be trying to help those less fortunate."

I choked.

What?

"This isn't charity-"

"Andy is lucky to be engaged to such a wonderful girl," She squeezed my arm tighter.

I smiled brilliantly at her, snapping back to reality and falling back into the role I'd perfected over the years. The role of an engaging, cordial girl that everyone loves. Because, of course, I'd never be friends with someone from the city! That was impossible. I was doing this for the common good.

See…pretending is needed sometimes.

Sometimes it seems like pretending is all I know.

--

I leaned against the fence of the tennis court, tugging the bottom of my white skirt nervously. Mrs. Ockley stood close to me, prattling on about dinner parties I'd missed. (Joann ripped her dress, how embarrassing!") and the polo match that was coming up ("Andy is playing, don't you know"). But I wasn't really paying much attention to her.

No, I was more focused on the disaster happening on the tennis court.

Some might cry and call it a failure. I'd prefer to laugh and pretend it was all a horrible nightmare.

"Your serve Andrew!" Mr. Ockley said gruffly. He bounced heavily from foot to foot, gripping his racket tightly.

Andy grinned charmingly at him and nodded.

"We got this Butch," said Andy to his partner. His partner that stood glaring back at him, holding his racket across his shoulders and wearing the same ratty t-shirt, jeans, and thick soled timberlands that he'd arrived in. Yes, the same outfit he'd outright refused to change out of.

"I don't think he understands court conduct," Mrs. Ockley whispered to me and I just cringed. What, was there a law that said he had to wear all white to a tennis match?

Well, I suppose there was a _rule_…but still…no law!

"Do well Andy!" I called happily and Andy just smiled brightly at me before tossing the lime green ball into the air and hitting it expertly over the net to Dr. Parker.

Dr. Parker, a middle aged man with graying hair and a pleasant face, returned the ball with practiced grace that came from years of impressing clients and bosses on the court.

I held my breath as I watch the ball go towards Butch, quickly approaching him and…

"He just stepped out of the way!" Mrs. Ockley said in shock.

He. Just. Stepped. Out. Of. The. Way.

He didn't even try to return it. He didn't even move his racket in front of him. Sure he'd never played before, but still! It wasn't as if it was a fast serve!

"Good try Mr. Sawyer!" Andy called with only a slight crease in his forehead. Dr. Parker was openly chortling while Mr. Ockley smirked viciously. "Next time just try and hit it."

Butch said nothing, just stood casually as if he were waiting in line for the bus, not in the middle of a very important game.

And he never tried to hit it. Not once. I watched, along with everyone else as Butch made no effort to return one serve. He always moved at the last moment, a slight turn of his head or shift for his feet and he'd let the ball sail right by him.

Eventually, after giving up on encouraging, Andy simply played the whole court. He ran around like a chicken with its head cut off in a valiant attempt to get to every ball that came their way. He was panting and sweating only after a few sets and Mr. Ockley was openly laughing.

"Okay, time to change partners!" Mrs. Ockley said just as I'd made my mind up to march out onto the court and bash Butch over the head with my racket…repeatedly. What was he thinking?

"I need a break," Andy panted, his pale cheeks a deep red. Butch smirked, watching him stumble off the court and I gritted my teeth. And yet again he's pissing me off…boy was this boy moody! He was worse then Buttercup when she got mean.

"Do I get to play with you Marylyn?" Dr. Parker asked as she walked out onto the tennis court and waved at him.

"Of course," She grinned. "Let's show these young kids how it's done."

"It's the two city slickers now," Dr. Parker winked at Mrs. Ockley and I found myself thinking him far less attractive. "We've got this in the bag. The boy doesn't care and I've heard the girl can't play."

I ignored him as I walked up close to Butch, fisting my hands against my hips and speaking heatedly through my teeth. "I thought you weren't mad at me anymore." I seethed at the green-eyed boy.

He threw me a blank look. His black hair fell into tanned face. "I'm not mad."

"Then are just trying to embarrass us?" I whispered. "Andy wants a promotion and-"

"_Andy_ is playing fine," Butch shrugged. "What does he have to worry about?"

"If you play badly it'll reflect on us-" I began and he grinned coolly making me clamp my mouth shut.

"Betty," He said lowly. "Stop worrying. If I play badly it only reflects on me. Besides, I think your fiancé's boss quite enjoyed watching his employee run around like a fool. I thought he was going to bust a gut there at the end."

I tried to make myself stay angry with him despite the grin that found its way onto my face. But since I somehow couldn't find it in me to stay mad (anger never really suited me anyway) and since the other pair was waiting expectantly, I just sent him an amused look before turning and skipping towards my side of the court and taking my stance.

--

"Heads up!" Dr. Parker called as the ball he just hit nailed me in the knee.

I sucked in a breath and kneeled over to rub my abused appendage. Already a red circle was forming and it would undoubtedly bruise. That was the third time he'd pegged me so far!

"Sorry dear!" The doctor called, trying to muffle a snort.

I just laughed tightly. "That's okay!"

Again the ball went into play and again, after a few moments of volleying the lime green ball from hell stuck me harshly against my shoulder. I nearly dropped my racket from the sudden sting of pain but somehow kept it in a tight grip.

"Dr. Parker!" Mrs. Ockley giggled. "I could almost swear you were doing this on purpose!"

"Did the city make you forget how to play Miss Utonium?" Dr. Parker asked, seemingly enjoying himself.

I laughed shortly and walked to retrieve the ball that had rolled against Butch's foot. Just as I reached down to get it Butch scooped it up (the first thing he'd done all game) and held it out for me. I looked up to thank him but stopped, slightly startled.

Because…because he was glaring at Dr. Parker like it was going out of style. His face was shadowed and his cold mask was eerily calm.

"Is he doing that on purpose?" He asked as my fingers closed around the fuzzy tennis ball.

"No," I laughed. "I'm just a klutz. I'm not as good at dodging as you." I teased with a wink.

He said nothing else so I walked over to my spot again, assuming I'd appeased him.

A few plays and four new bruises later I was proved wrong, however. As I watched another one of Dr. Parker's deadly serves sail towards me, knowing I couldn't dodge, I was distracted by a quick movement from the corner of my.

_Butch_.

Yes. Butch.

Butch stepped up in front of me, his racket prepared and his shoulders tensing and his hair shoved out of his face, and he hit the ball…_**hard**_.

And the hallow sound of the ball as it ricochet off the strings of the racket was probably the last thing Dr. Parker heard before the ball struck his forehead with such force that his knees buckled and his eyes rolled and he fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

And as the rest of our party rushed to gather around the fallen doctor I froze and turned a disbelieving look to Butch. Because he did that on purpose. He did.

And as he looked back at me he knew that I knew. He _knew_.

And he winked at me and I smiled back.

And my whole body felt bruised and battered but I smiled.

"Nice hit Mr. Sawyer," I told him as I began to walk towards Andy who was helping Dr. Parker sit up.

I heard him chuckle slightly and I bit back a laugh.

--

Butch had already hotwired the car again by the time I made it to the lot. I'd been talking to Andy's boss when the valet came up to us, explaining that he couldn't start the car (Tsk. Some people just didn't have any skills in the art of thievery and mischief) and Butch had to run out in order to help.

After promising to call Andy later and wishing Dr. Parker the best of luck recovering I finally made my way out back to the parking lot and threw myself into the passenger's seat.

"I'm sorry," I told Butch as he looked over his shoulder to back up. "For the way they treated you."

"They treated me better than expected," He shrugged.

"Mrs. Ockley thinks you're some sort of charity case," I snorted, rolling my eyes and resting back against the seat.

"Am I?" Butch asked as I closed my eyes.

"No," I laughed. "Charity cases are a lot easier to handle then you."

He was silent for a moment and I could hear him shift the gears and go a bit faster.

"Did you get too hurt?" His voice was relaxed and an odd mix of gentleness and curiosity that I'd never heard before.

"My knee is swollen," I laughed. "And the bruises might make me look a bit like a leopard…but I'll survive."

We were silent for a long while and I felt myself dozing off as the day took its toll on me. I mean, getting slapped by an old lady, stealing a car, getting pelted by a tennis ball…life was rough.

"So I think that may be last time I'm invited to play tennis at the country club," Butch said dryly and I smiled at his low tones and the musky smell of the slight sweat he'd worked up in the sun.

"Me too," I giggled.

--

_Ouch, I have lost myself again  
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,  
Yeah, I think that I might break  
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe_

Be my friend

_--_

**Okay, here it goes: **

**I'm terribly sorry for the long wait. A friend of mine died about a week ago and I just couldn't think for a while. He was a great boy (or man rather) who would have done amazing things and changed the world. **

**I know it's no excuse for the long wait but hopefully I'll be able to post more now.**

**But yes, this chapter was for him. It wasn't perfect but since writing it helped me forget for a while I decided to leave it as it is, drama filled and an emotional roller coaster. Hopefully that's okay.**

**Oh, and about last chapter's title; I'm so sorry I forgot to address this before, but the name of my chapters are the titles from the song within the chapter. Sorry if that was confusing!**

**ANYWAY! Haha, thanks for reading and please review to say how you feel. Thanks so much.**


	9. Moving Mountains

then the sky **turns grey**, and the water from the rain,  
_washes progress away_. it's like moving mountains...

--

"Um…Butch?" A voice said above the clatter of the garage. It was hesitant and familiar and I looked up to see Bubbles standing about a foot from where I was kneeling.

She was in her diner uniform and her pale blonde hair was down around her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed lightly and her white teeth were chewing her bottom lip with a vengeance. From my spot on the floor I could see slightly up her skirt and catch a small stretch of her pale thigh.

"Hey," I said roughly as I tossed the wrench onto the tool rack and stood up. "What're you doing here?"

She shifted, her blue eyes looking around the shop with interest. The very sight of her was so out of place amongst the grease stained floors, scrap metal, and posters of pin up girls that all the other men stood still and stared at her. Their attention was understandable, but hardly welcome.

"I…" She looked down at her feet and took a deep breath. Her courage once again gathered, she looked steadily back into my eyes. "I needed to talk to you about something and I have the rest of the day off so…"

She trailed off and looked at something behind my shoulder. I frowned and turned to see what had caught her attention and saw Harper standing just beyond my shoulder. His bushy eyebrows were raised and his arms were crossed.

"This a business call?" He nodded towards the blonde girl while watching me closely.

"Aw, come on Harper!" A man, George I think, called from the back of the shop. "Let her stay!"

"Yeah, she ain't hurting nothin'," Another agreed.

I just rolled my eyes as Bubbles blushed a deep red. God, could she be any more transparent? Did she want the whole world to know just how out of place she was?

"Should I leave?" She asked me, her eyes flicking briefly to Harper.

"No," I replied, sending Harper a cold glare over my shoulder. "Stay."

"You have work to do today," Harper told me. I ignored him.

"Betty," I said, reaching out and grabbing her arm around the elbow. My fingers practically encircled the whole width and I realized then just how small she was. I loosened my grip a bit. "Wait over here, okay?"

She didn't resist as I pulled her over to a rusty old chair against the wall. She sat down and crossed her legs, her hands twisting awkwardly in her lap. Her eyes were trained on the pale material of her skirt and I frowned down at her.

With a sigh I turned back to face Harper, but a small tug on my shirt halted me. I glanced back to see Bubbles watching me, her eyes slightly amused and a weak smile tugging against her lips. Her hand was fisted in my black t-shirt.

"I guess I should've called before dropping by, huh?" She asked dryly. Her blue eyes held mine.

I swallowed, not quite sure what to say. I could feel all the other men watching us and I hated being on display. I fought to find something harsh to say, something that would make them less curious.

But instead I found myself reaching down and gently untangling her hand from my apparel. She let it drop back into her lap.

"Just wait here," I mumbled, mad at myself for acting so weak.

I should scold her. Reprimand her.

After all, girlfriends weren't supposed to visit at work. And she didn't belong here.

…but she didn't know that rule. And she wasn't my girlfriend.

And so I turned away from her and crossed the distance to where Harper stood waiting with a scowl. And where all the other men stood watching intently. No one expected such an obviously innocent girl to come in here. Especially for her to be looking for me. And absolutely no one expected me to be anything but cold to her.

Because although I've never had trouble getting girls, the thought of me spending more then one night with them or showing them the least bit of gentleness was absurd. They were obviously wondering why this one was so special.

I wasn't quite sure of that answer.

"I'm taking a lunch break," I told Harper when I reached him. My voice was cold and unquestionable.

"Fine," He conceded, gritting his teeth. "But you better watch yourself with that girl."

I frowned and resisted the urge to turn and glance back at her. I could feel her watching me.

"Why the sudden interest in my life?" I asked.

"You know I've always tried to look out for you," Harper looked a bit stung. "I'm just making sure you know what you're doing. That girl may look pretty but she's trouble. Don't get yourself hurt over a quick screw. She's not worth it."

I felt an angry rush of heat all over and my jaw tensed tightly. My fists, clenched at my sides, wanted very badly to pound Harper into the ground. I swallowed thickly to keep from following through with the violent urge.

"I think," I bit out as emotionless as possible. "That you should keep your opinions to yourself."

"Now, listen," Harper tried to back-track, realizing at once his obvious blunder. He watched me warily. "I'm just saying she has a big ring on her finger. I'm sure you think you know what you're doing, but have you really thought this through? Do you think a man that can afford a ring like that will take kindly to a punk like you rubbing up against his girl?"

I should have set him straight. I should've told him that there was nothing going on between Bubbles and me. I should've told him that I'd met her fiancée and he was no threat. I should have told him there was no rubbing up against anyone. And I should've told him, honestly, that I had absolutely no fucking idea what I was doing.

But the truth was, although there was nothing going on between me and the blonde behind me, I hated to admit it. Damn pride. And although I knew _Andy_ was no threat, I did know that men with money always had ways of keeping punks like me far away from their property. And although I hadn't made the slightest move on the blonde, I'd be damned if I said I didn't want to. And although I had no idea what I was doing when it came to Bubbles, I knew exactly what I wanted to be doing _to_ her.

Damn hormones.

So I just kept my mouth shut. And stuck to my guns.

And glared at the older man as I called for Bubbled to follow after me. She hopped up quickly and was at my side in an instant. Her blue eyes looked Harper over and she smiled softly at him.

"I'm really sorry for interrupting your work day," She said with more sincerity than Harper was expecting. He faltered a bit. "I promise I'll bring him back as soon as possible. He's not much of a talker so I figure I'll bore of him soon enough."

Harper smiled. Actually smiled. And the rest of the men laughed openly at the off-hand insult she'd thrown at me.

"You make sure he's good to you. If he's too much of an ass I'll just fire him," Harper's eyes crinkled. I glared at him in disbelief.

What the hell?

Wasn't he practically kicking her out ten seconds ago?

"Whatever," I scowled. I gripped her elbow and pulled her out of the shop, much to the amusement of our audience.

--

We walked in silence down the busy sidewalk. Bubbles was smiling softly to herself about god know what as I glared at anyone who thought to look twice. I wasn't in the best of moods and I was tired of being stared at.

A cool breeze went through the streets, catching my attention. And as we walked I could see Bubbles' uniform lift slowly in the wind. Her knees were revealed first and then a hint of more skin.

_The bruise is finally fading._

I noticed this with an odd sort of relief. Relief in the form of a loosening in my muscles. Muscles that I hadn't even realized were tensed.

I guess it made sense. For the past couple of days I'd catch sight of that bruise on her knee—the one in the perfect shape of a tennis ball—and I'd get a foul taste in my mouth and I'd feel the urge to punch something. Hard. So it made sense that the sight of it fading would relieve me.

But the discerning part was why I was so upset to see it in the first place. Each time the hem of her hideous diner uniform would inch up to show the discolored and darkened mark I remembered vividly the way the rich doctor had pelted her repeatedly. I remembered the restraint it took to not jump the small net and knock the bastard flat on his back. I remembered the way she'd wince and the way her eyes widened when I finally retaliated.

She'd seemed so shocked. It was as if she hadn't thought I'd hit the man who was hurting her. As if she'd expected me to just continue to stand there and watch her get hurt.

It was amusing but also a little unnerving. After all, why _should _I care? Why would she expect me to defend her? Why should I?

But for the sake of ignorance and sanity I decided not to evaluate my actions. Why should I? I wanted to punish that insufferable idiot for hurting her and so I did. What was there to question? I always did what I wanted.

And at any rate, the bruise was fading and I was glad. Her legs were much better to look at without the mark. And I was happy to see it go.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" I finally asked. My voice startled her out of her reverie and she looked over at me in shock.

"Oh…I don't know…" She frowned slightly and her face turned serious. "It's probably nothing…"

I sighed, trying to ignore a pang of worry that edged my senses. When girls said that, it always meant there was something.

"Something happen at work?" I pressed, feeling very much like I was pulling teeth. I would never understand why women didn't just say what they were thinking. It'd be a hell of a lot simpler and it'd keep me from guessing.

"Not exactly…" She mumbled.

I sighed again. This wasn't my area of expertise. Didn't she have a best friend or a mother or a fiancée to go talk to?

"Betty," I tried to approach it reasonably. "Just tell me what's wrong and I'll fix it, okay?"

She stopped walking and looked at me oddly. I stopped as well and met her gaze evenly. Her blue eyes were dark and dilated and her lips parted slightly as she gazed up at me. Strands of blonde hair fell across her face as the wind blew and made her cheeks flush from the cold.

I felt something stir in me at the sight of her. Something deep and dark and primitive. A shady voice whispered in my head. It told me to take her. It told me she was mine. It told me to ignore the ring, damn the man who gave it to her, and make her see what a real man was like. Make her see all I could do and offer her.

I swallowed and ignored the voice. I ignored the stirring in my body and the twist in my stomach.

I had to get away from her before I did something stupid and got hurt just as Harper had warned.

'_But wouldn't she be worth it?_' The voice whispered. '_Look at her, Butch. She'd be worth it. Imagine the way she'd melt into you. Imagine her eyes as you_-'

"What?" I asked, snapping myself from my dire thoughts and tensing muscles. I realized she'd been talking.

"Nothing…I just…um….I was just saying that it's not me that's in trouble. I think it might be you," She repeated, watching me closely.

I looked away. If she saw the look in my eyes she'd be terrified.

I fought for calm. I fought for control of the pumping in my veins.

"I'm not in trouble," I tried to assure her. The very fact that I was standing in the middle of the street comforting a girl told me that I was very much in trouble.

I really needed to get away from her.

Feeling anything for a girl, especially a girl like her, would only end with me either six feet under or behind bars.

"But I think you are!" She said with vehemence. Her eyes were determined. "I think you're in trouble Butch, and I'm worried!"

I rubbed my temples, trying to calm down. My logic told me to shoo her away and go back to work. But everything else inside me violently protested the idea of just walking away. I had no reason to not hear her out.

"Why do you think I'm in trouble?" I asked calmly.

"These men came into the diner today and I think they were part of that gang. The Audley Boys or whatever," She said in a rush, waving her hands around. "They didn't know I was listening but they were talking pretty loudly. They said…"

She faltered and I grew tense.

_Fuck_. The Audley Boys. What had they said to her? An edge of urgency seeped into my mind and I reached out and grabbed her upper arm.

"What did they say Betty?" I asked reasonably, my grip tight.

"They said…that they were going to get you back for stealing their car," She was watching me closely again. Her brow was knitted in worry. "They said that your brothers, that man named Ace, and you were going to get it really hurt."

"Did they say when?"

"No," She thought hard. "They just said it'd be soon."

I let out a low sigh and released her arm. This wasn't good but it wasn't a surprise. I had stolen their car. It wasn't as if they were just going to sit back and let me. They were just brash enough to try and challenge all of us too.

Figures.

"Did they say anything else?" I asked, my mind mulling over everything I'd have to do. Ace would need to know—unless of course he already knew which wasn't unlikely. He knew everything. Boomer would have to be warned too. He wouldn't be expecting an ambush seeing as he didn't know I'd stolen the car.

"No," She shrugged. "I left just after that. I went to two other auto shops before I finally found the one you worked at."

I felt myself frown at that. She'd been wandering around looking for me? What if something had happened to her? It wasn't safe to just be walking around.

"Did they recognize you?" I finally questioned. I felt like demanding her to never walk around alone again. But the urge passed and the more sensible side took back over.

"No," She smiled wryly at that. "I recognized some of them from the alley but none of the recognized me or even mentioned a girl in the car."

Good. That was one less worry.

"Okay," I nodded. "That's good to know."

I turned to go back into work. I could use the phone on Harper's desk and call Boomer and Ace up. They needed to be on their toes if the Audley Boys were pissed. We could take them, but not if we were hit with an unseen fight.

"Wait!" Bubbles called and I turned back and watched her warily.

I needed to find a way to keep her away from me. She was being pulled too far into my world as it was. Partially due to me. And it wasn't the place for her. She needed class and money and wealth.

Hopefully she'd realize that soon enough and quit this little game she was playing. She needed to go back to daddy before I ignored my voice of reason and decided to keep her around.

"Be careful," She was telling me, completely unaware of the mental battle I was waging with myself.

_Be careful…_

Yeah, it was a little late for that sweetheart. I sighed at my own since of misfortune. I may run this city but I'm still a man. And I've never hesitated to let myself be selfish or get what I wanted.

"Let me walk you back to your apartment," I bit out finally.

She smiled at me and rolled her eyes. But she didn't hesitate to trail after me. And I didn't allow myself to think about exactly how much of a pussy I was being. I wanted to walk her home so I did. There was nothing wrong with that.

Besides…I have always had a thing for blondes…

--

I walked towards Ace's house, my hands shoved deep into my pockets. He lived in the housing district in a small, rundown house with one bedroom and not much else. The Gang Greene Gang's set-up was a bit nicer but not by much. I'd already gone by there but they'd told me that Ace had called it a night early.

"Butch!" Someone shouted after me as I walked down the dark city street. The hostility in the voice made me stop short.

I tensed and turned slowly. Walking towards me was about six Audley Boys. You could always tell an Audley Boy because they wore all black and each had a faint blue skull tattooed on their left temple. Most of them were relatively young but there were a few older ones in their early thirties that had potential to start trouble.

The ones approaching me now were mostly the young ones, but the one on the far right was older and the look in his eyes spoke of experience causing pain. They were walking in a straight line, their posture stiff and the glint of pocket knives was unmistakable.

I wasn't too surprised to see them. In fact I'd been anticipating their arrival since I'd watched Bubbles walk into the apartment building. I knew they'd make a move soon. They weren't smart enough to let me sit and anticipate anything.

I looked coldly at them, showing no emotion and no hesitation. My hands, shoved in my pockets, lightly gripped the hilt of my gun as the other grasped the worn blade. They approached without deterring.

"We want to have a word with you," Said a young one, his face harsh and hand gripping a shining blade.

"I imagine you do," I said dryly.

"You took something that belongs to us," The same boy continued as they all drew to a stop about ten feet from me.

I sent him a condescending sneer before turning my gaze to the older one. He was watching me with an eerie look that he undoubtedly thought would intimidate me. I merely smirked at him.

"You can find your car by the docks," I told him.

"We looked for it at the docks," The boy from before said and I turned my attention back to him. He looked a bit put out by my obvious disinterest. "We didn't see the car and we want it."

"I said it's _by_ the docks," I smirked still, my blood pumping faster and every muscle in me was tensed and ready for a fight. Six against one wouldn't be easy, but it wasn't impossible.

It actually sounded…fun.

"And _I _said we looked there," The young boy was obviously used to threatening little kids for their lunch money. His lack of experience was obvious by the way his patience was wearing thin quickly. He clearly didn't understand that I was baiting him.

"It's in the water," The older one finally spoke, his voice cracked from years of smoking and a faint Spanish accent tinting it.

The five younger punks looked at him in shock before recovering and sending me slightly unnerved looks. Good. They better get nervous. They better get fucking terrified.

"You drove it into the bay?" The young one asked.

"I didn't need it anymore," I shrugged.

"Well…we'll get you back for that now," The younger one tried to reign his confidence back in. "We don't take kindly to little shits like you taking our stuff."

_Little shit_? I was at least three years older than him and clearly I had been around longer then him. He was a pawn. He was a newbie thrown out into the line of fire to do dirty work.

And he thought he could talk to _me_ that way?

Did he even know who I was?

Did he know what I could do to him?

I felt myself bristle at the insult and my body screamed for a fight. I'd show him exactly who I was. I'd show him why people cleared my path and feared me.

"Now!" The younger one shouted the moment he saw my hand surface from my pocket, the blade drawn and ready.

The five younger Audley boys all rushed for me, the oldest hanging back. I ignored him and steeled myself for the onslaught. The first two that reached me were easy. I dodged a swipe of a blade and dug my fist into one's stomach, all the while cuffing the other with my left hand.

"Shit," I heard one mutter as I slit his arm open. He fell to his knees, clutching his arm and I kicked him soundly in the face. He fell back, his head hitting the concrete with a thud.

The third one tackled me from the side but I'd barely hit the ground before I rolled onto my feet and elbowed him in the back of his head. He slumped easily enough and I kicked his stomach for good measure.

I spun as I heard the last one come at me. He was the talker, the pawn. I punched him in the jaw and my blood pumped faster as I heard it crack. He stumbled but didn't fall and his blade ripped my sleeve as he tried to lash at me.

In seconds we were back at each others throats. I was stronger and I was a more experienced fighter.

He had no chance.

"You," I bit out as I caught him around the collar and drew him up off the ground. He kicked at me as his feet suspended in the air. "You disrespectful bastard. Who do you think you are?"

He struggled but didn't answer. I shook him roughly.

"I asked you a question!" I whispered fiercely as I dropped him to the ground. He landed heavily on his knees and glared pensively up at me.

"I-I'm not afraid of you." His stutter betrayed his words.

I smirked down at him, my form looming and I saw fear begin to grow in his eyes. I crouched, yanking his head roughly to an angle and pressed my switch blade against his neck.

"I should slit your throat and drop you into the bay," I said in a bored tone. "That way you can get your precious car."

"I-I don't want-t it anymore," He blubbered and I raised an eyebrow.

"You sure?" I pressed mockingly. Blood trickled down his neck from a thin line the edge of my blade was making. I pressed a bit harder.

"Enough," The older Audley, whom I'd momentarily forgotten about, said evenly. I looked over at him with a scowl, refusing to step back from the sniveling young punk. I wasn't done teaching him a lesson.

"Back off," I warned him as he stepped closer but he wasn't watching me. Instead he was fixing his last conscious comrade with a disgusted look. His eyes shown with disdain.

"Finish him," The older one said to me. "Audley Boys don't cry. He doesn't deserve the title."

The boy at my hands whimpered slightly and I flicked my gaze from one man to the other.

"You'd sell out your teammate that easily? You'd just let me kill him?" I asked finally, my voice tight with agitation. What kind of gang was that? My grip on my knife loosened.

"Just finish him," The man repeated, still not looking at me as he turned his back on us both and began to walk away.

I watched him go, the younger boy still waiting for his punishment before me. I clenched my jaw at the situation. This was annoying.

"So you're just walking away?" I called after the man. "You aren't going to fight? You coward! What kind of man leaves his friend behind?"

"He's not my friend," He called evenly back. "He's just a pawn." He echoed my previous thoughts. "His purpose here was to let you know we aren't happy with your previous actions. Now you know and his use is gone."

I scowled. "_Coward_."

The man turned back and watched me, sizing me up.

"Your days at the top of the food chain are numbered, Butch," He said. "You, your brothers, and the Gang Greene Gang would do best to watch your backs. The Audley Boys won't be shoved to the side."

And then he was gone.

"Shit," I scowled.

"P-please," The young boy begged, drawing my attention back to him. "Just kill me quick."

I pulled away, standing up and looking away from him. The blood lust had ebbed and now I just felt tired. I flicked the switch blade and crimson liquid dripped off of it and onto my shoe. I sighed and closed it before shoving it into my pocket.

"Get your friends and leave," I muttered, looking away from his confused expression as he brought a hand up to clutch his bleeding neck.

And then I walked away. I made sure to take and alternate route to Ace's house so as not to be followed. I frowned as I walked.

My days on the top were numbered?

Heh, yeah right. My days on top were just starting. No gang of low-life cowards would stop that.

--

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

The thin wood of the door rattled under my fist and I heard footsteps walking quickly towards me.

"Oh!" Bubbles said in a surprised tone as she cracked her door open. "Butch, it's two in the morning! What's up?"

I looked at her coldly, Ace's words from earlier echoing through my mind.

'_I think we've underestimated the Audley Boys,'_ He had told me. _'They're more brash then we'd expected. They're going to put up a fight.'_

I scowled at that thought. I knew the fact that I beat those five younger ones up earlier wouldn't help to ease tensions either. And so I found myself at _her_ door at an ungodly hour like a fool. She probably thought I was drunk.

"I wanted to tell you to lock your door," I said simply, as if her shock wasn't at all applicable.

Instead of questioning me like I'd assumed she do, her eyes merely got serious and a small worry line creased her forehead.

"Did they hurt you?" She asked, to my shock.

She caught on quick.

"No," I said briskly, trying to maintain an air of indifference. It was better for her not to get involved. It was better for her to stay as far away from everything as possible. "Everything's fine. Just lock your door and look through the hole before answering it."

"Let me guess," She said with a grin. "I shouldn't open it to anyone I don't know or take candy from strangers either."

"Ha ha," I said dryly, but she merely giggled at my cold look.

"I'm kidding," She rubbed her eyes tiredly and I refused to feel bad for waking her up, no matter how worn out she seemed. "I'll lock my door, I promise. Okay? Now thank you for your concern, but I really need to get some sleep."

"I'm not concerned," I said stiffly.

"Sure…" She watched me closely before smiling again. "Goodnight Butch. I'll see you tomorrow."

No…not tomorrow. Not ever. She needed to leave. Soon. I felt as if the walls were closing in around me. Because…well…

She was so damn vulnerable. And innocent. And she was such an easy target. And someone was going to hurt her, I could feel it. And, damn it all, I cared!

I don't know why, but for some reason I cared. She was in danger, and that made me feel edgy. And I couldn't figure out why.

"Goodnight Betty," I said tiredly.

It would have been better if I'd never met her. She was one of those problem causers. And I didn't need anything else to worry about or take care of.

I heard her door lock just after it closed and I sighed.

The walls still seemed closer to me and I felt trapped. I realized, with a morbid since of relief, that it was already too late. She was a problem causer and would be nothing but trouble …but for some reason I'd already taken responsibility for her.

I don't know when it happened. But it did.

She was trouble, just as Harper had said. But she was mine to look after now.

And I'd make sure nothing happened to her.

And God, did I even want to know why I cared?

It didn't matter. All that mattered was that I did care. And nothing was going to happen to her.

Not on my watch.

And like I said…I've always had a thing for blondes…and trouble…

--

The hot summer days were almost just a faint memory as the cool brisk autumn set in. My apartment windows stayed shut and soon I'd have to put on my heat in order to sleep comfortably through the chilled nights.

"I nearly froze my balls off out there," Boomer said snidely as he threw himself back onto my couch. His dark blonde hair stuck out scrappily from underneath his beanie and his clothes were rumpled.

"Buy a jacket," I said distractedly as I looked through my fridge. No food. At least, none worth eating.

"Nah, man," Boomer laughed. "I don't wanna' waist the money."

"What happened to all the money we got from the warehouse," I straightened and looked over at him. He merely gave me a sheepish grin and a shrug. "You spent it all?"

"Well…you hadn't come asking for it yet," He mumbled. "So I figured I'd put it to use."

"You…" I took a deep breath and glared at my slightly younger brother. His goofy persona only made my blood pressure rise more and my hands fisted themselves at my sides. "You spent it all?"

"I spent it wisely!" He defended with an awkward laugh. He leaned forward and nervously flicked on the television I'd brought out and set in front of the couch.

"What did you spend it on?" I asked, gritting my teeth. My idiot brother was about to get his ass kicked for wasting all that money.

"My bail," Came a familiar voice behind me. "And my lawyer's fee."

I looked over my shoulder to see Brick standing in my now open doorway with a harsh smile. He looked like hell. His red hair was too long and he had a rough beard forming along his jaw.

"Good to see you out, man," I nodded at him to conceal my surprise. I hadn't even heard him break in. "What's the damage?"

"Seventy-two hours of community service and I can't leave town for a while," Brick was still grinning. "Which is good, considering they usually pin you with worse for grand theft, disturbing the peace, breaking and entering, and resisting arrest."

"What?" Boomer laughed. "No drunk in public charge? I'm disappointed Brick, I thought more of you."

"Shut-up," I scowled at Boomer who merely went back to watching some loud, annoying daytime show.

"What's with you two pansies?" Brick laughed as he shut my door and moved to sit on the armrest of my couch. "Can't get along for ten minutes while I'm in jail, can you?"

"Butch is mad I spent his money," Boomer said, sending me a mocking glance. I punched him soundly on his arm and smirked when he clutched at it with a hiss. "Ow, damn it!"

"Go get me a beer Boomer," Brick instructed before glancing over at me. "Now, is this the money you used to get me out?"

"Yeah," Boomer confirmed as he got up and grabbed three beers from the fridge. "We lifted it off some guys and Butch let me keep an eye on his portion."

"Bad mistake," I glared at him and snatched a beer from his hand.

"What, you didn't want me out?" Brick asked, testing me with a look. His red eyes bore into me and I flicked him off before snapping the cap off the beer and downing a portion of it.

"So," Boomer continued as the three of us began to drink and watch the fuzzy screen distractedly. "What're you guys doing tonight?"

"Don't you have work?" I asked.

"No," He said quickly.

"Fired?" I guessed.

"Yep." He confirmed.

"God my brothers are losers," Brick said as he stood up off the couch. "It's my first night out of jail in over a month and you two just want to sit here and watch television all night. God that's lame. I'm out of here."

"Dude," Boomer said in defense. "I just go fired today, sorry if I'm not in the partying mood. I mean, my boss really let me have it."

"You've been stealing from him since the day you started," I muttered. "You're the worst store clerk ever."

"I never stole from him while I was working!" Boomer corrected in mock defense. "I waited until my break…"

I rolled my eyes again and continued nursing my beer. The fuzzy screen flickered before me and I watched dully as the show played across the television set.

"Well I'm going to find Hannah," Brick interrupted, making his way towards the door. "She probably slept around while I was in the pin but I'm not about to turn down a sure thing. I'll catch you two girls later…once you decide to act like the brothers I've raised you to be."

"Hannah will be at the bar," Boomer said and Brick looked back at him. "And Ace will be too…and so will a lot of beers…and a lot of hot chicks…and…why aren't we there?"

"I thought you didn't want to go out," I reminded him snidely. "You know, bad day getting fired and all."

"Well, what better way to celebrate my brother's freedom, my unemployment, and your victory than to get smashed?" Boomer hopped off the couch and jogged towards the door where Brick was standing.

"Victory?" Brick repeated, looked over at me.

I sighed and stood up to join them. "I beat up a few Audley Boys."

"A few?"

"Five," I corrected.

"Nice," He smirked. "I'll have Ace fill me in on any lifts or heists he has planned while we're there. I haven't talked to him since I've been out."

"You've only been out a few hours," Boomer reminded him as we stepped out into the hallway.

"Yeah," Brick laughed. "And I'm already itching to rob something."

I smirked as I locked my door. "Count me in."

"Me too," Boomer shrugged. "I'll need the cash if I can't get another job."

--

"Brick!" Hannah laughed as she threw her arms around my brother's neck. Her shirt was barely there and on a later date I'd appreciate the view, only now I had more pressing matters.

Like an annoying younger brother who didn't know when to quit.

"How is it that we've only been here for ten seconds and you've already downed two drinks?" I asked as I slid into a barstool one down from him. I liked to keep a stool between us when he was drinking like that. I hated to get thrown up on.

"Skills, man, I got skills," He said while raising his hand to catch the bartender's attention.

I got myself my own drink and looked around. The Gang Greene Gang was gathered around the pool tables in the back but Ace was no where in sight. Brick, it seemed, had taken advantage of the ever-willing Hannah and had disappeared into one of the back rooms.

"Great, now I'm stuck with you," I smirked when Boomer merely threw me a lazy grin. He sucked back another long gulp of the amber liquid and I laughed a bit. "Jesus, Boomer, take it easy."

"I like to pace myself," He explained. His words weren't yet slurred but they were getting there. "At a very **fast** pace."

I rolled my eyes and looked around the bar again.

"Butchy-boy!" Ace's boisterous voice called from behind me. I twisted on my stool to see the slightly older man walking towards me, his grin devious. "I heard your brother is out."

"Yeah," I nodded. "He's enjoying his freedoms as we speak."

Ace merely grinned wider. "When he's done tell him to come find me. We have to talk business."

"Anything I should hear?" I pressed, taking another sip of my beer.

"Yeah," He said in a slightly lower tone. "I want you in on this too, but I'll fill you in later."

"Later?" I asked, a bit miffed.

"Yeah, you'll have your hands tied tonight," I couldn't see his eyes through the thick shades but I could practically feel the evil glint of them.

"My hands tied-" I began but was cut off when Ace turned behind him and reached for someone who had been previously hidden from my view. He gripped her arm and pulled her out in front of him, smiling all the while.

"Look who I found!" He said, his tone sly.

"Betty," I said, more then a little shocked but doing my best to cover it. "What're you doing here?"

She threw Ace a sharp glance and tugged her arm from his grip.

"You're friend saw me walking home and decided to drag me along," She said, her voice revealing her temper. By the nail marks on Ace's arm I'd guess that she didn't come without a fight.

"I thought you got off later," I said, frowning. I'd planned to leave early to make sure she got home alright, I wasn't expecting her to have been out on the street by herself. Nor had I wanted her to.

"The grill broke so we had to close up early," She said, shrugging.

"And then I saw her walking all by herself and decided to invite her along," Ace said. He was still grinning, watching me and waiting for my reaction. I swallowed a sour taste in my mouth and ignored my anger.

Just because I'd decided to look after the girl didn't mean I was the only one who was allowed to. I knew I should be thanking Ace for getting her off the street but still I found myself loathing him. He had an ulterior motive. He always did.

"You dragged me," Bubbles corrected as I hopped down off the stool. "And I didn't want to come."

"Well you're here now," Ace laughed. "So sit down and enjoy the company."

He sent me another look but I ignored it. And then he was walking away to go find the rest of his gang. I glared after him.

"He's odd," I heard Bubbles comment.

I secretly agreed but I didn't reply. Instead I merely turned to face her. I reached out and grabbed her around the waist, my thumbs against her hipbones and my fingers against the rough fabric covering her back. I lifted her up without much effort, slightly amazed by how light she was, and sat her on top of the barstool I'd previously occupied.

"Thanks," She said and her voice sounded…shaky?

"Whatever," I mumbled before climbing back onto the stool next to my blonde brother. I motioned for the bartender to come over and from the corner of my eye I saw Bubbles shift nervously. "Not used to places like this?"

She looked over at me and frowned.

"No," She sighed. "It's not that. It's just…I feel gross from work and I need to change."

"There's no one here to impress," I shrugged.

She looked away, her cheeks tinted red, and watched the bartender approach us. I frowned but did the same as the round man drew to a stop before us. His eyes scanned over Bubbles briefly, noting that she wasn't twenty-one. He scowled at this.

"She can't get a drink," He said gruffly.

"I'm not twenty-one either," I reminded him. "And yet you've always served me drinks."

He shifted anxiously. "That's different."

"How?" Boomer's voice came from my right and I looked over to where he sat. About four rounds of beer had him slumping a bit on his stool and his words were getting a little fuzzy.

"It just is," The bartender mumbled.

"I don't need a drink," Bubbles said, trying to appease the situation.

"Nonsense," Boomer said, leaning forward so that he could see her. "You need a drink pretty lady. Loosen…up."

Well…he's had more then four beers.

"God, how much have you drank Boomer?" I asked, not sure if I should be proud of his record breaking consumption time or scold him for getting wasted so fast.

"Only about ten," He said with a wave of his left hand, his right hand held tightly to the edge of the bar as if for balance. "But the last two don't count 'cause I don't really remember drinking them."

"Wow," I heard Bubbles mutter from behind me.

"And who might you be?" Boomer asked her, his voice a bit too loud.

"I'm Bubbles," She smiled a little unsurely at him. "And you are?"

"I'm his brother," He pointed at me with a grin. I groaned and hung my head, annoyed with this situation already. "He's the second biggest bad-ass in the city."

Bubbles giggled, watching me from the corner of her eye as I continued to drink and ignore the two people on both my sides.

"Who's the biggest badass?" She asked with amusement.

Boomer's eyes widened comically as if with indignation. "Me, of course!"

"Oh, of course," Bubbles was laughing lightly now. "And who exactly gave you this title?"

"No one gave it to us," Boomer sighed. He was on his eleventh beer now and I'm pretty sure he thought this was a serious conversation. "We had to take it for ourselves. You can't…you can't let people walk over you. You have to kick as much ass as you can…and hope people learn to fear you."

"Fear?" She repeated and then her eyes met mine. "Are people afraid of you, Butch?"

I sat my beer down and faced her. "I don't know, are you afraid of me?"

"Should I be?" She threw back, a small smile tugging her lips but her eyes were midnight and somber.

"Yes," I answered honestly.

"Hm," She tilted her head with a teasing smile. "And yet I'm not afraid."

"Maybe you're too dumb to be afraid," I said harshly but her smile didn't falter.

"Or maybe you're not as scary as you think."

"I'm terrifying." I objected.

She shook her head and smiled oddly. I frowned, getting the feeling that she knew something that I didn't. I hated that feeling.

"I'm terrifying too!" Boomer's voice grated my nerves and I sent him an exasperated look over my shoulder. "I'm the scariest person I know."

Bubbles giggled a bit and I just rolled my eyes.

"Get the girl a beer," I called to the bartender as he walked by. "And for the love of God, stop giving them to my brother."

--

"I like you," Boomer's voice slurred loudly.

"I know," Bubbles said soothingly. Her arm was wrapped around his waist as he hung from her shoulders. They stumbled raggedly down the sidewalk in front of me as Butch and I hung back and watched with amusement.

"You smell pretty," He declared, his nose practically buried in her neck.

"I know," She said again, trying to help him walk.

"Well it seems Boomer made a friend," Brick said with amusement. "We should probably help her…"

I shrugged. "She's doing a fine job."

"You just don't want to have to drag him along," Brick laughed.

"You're right," I smirked. "I don't want to have to carry his drunken weight across the city just because he didn't know his limit."

"You're hair's prettier than mine," Boomer was telling Bubbles. He tried to reach up to grab a strand of it but his balance was nonexistent and they both stumbled a bit before regaining their previous pace.

"I know," Bubbles repeated.

"We should just leave him in a gutter," I muttered to Brick who only laughed.

"You're doing a good job," Brick called up to Bubbles. She glared back at us as she tightened her grip on the drunken leech at her side.

"The only reason I'm doing this is because you two would've just left him if I hadn't," She snapped, still struggling to keep the two walking. "But just know, if he throws up on me I'm kicking all of your butts and I don't car if you're drunk, or just got out of jail, or are supposedly scary. It's going to go down."

Brick laughed and I smirked at her.

"They're my brothers," Boomer whispered loudly into her face.

"I know," She told him with a weak smile.

"Only a few more blocks," Brick told her but she just sighed and didn't reply. "Hey, you're doing pretty good for a chick! You've barely complained."

"Bite me," I heard her mutter under her breath. A dry chuckle threatened to escape but I held it in.

"She's helping me walk!" Boomer yelled back to us, throwing them both off cue and sending them faltering dangerously close to the curb.

"We know," Brick and I called back, both amused.

"I think I like her!" Boomer said to us.

"I think she's taken," Brick called back.

I frowned, thinking of the ring on her finger. Thinking of that immaculate country club with the dark wood and ready workers. Thinking of the pitiful excuse for a man she'd called her fiancée.

I found I didn't like to think of such things.

But Brick…wasn't talking about the ring. In fact he was watching me. It was the same look I'd felt Ace give me, and, to a certain degree, Harper as well. It was a cautious, considering look. One that measured every move I made and weighed my every choice.

"Yeah, she's taken," I said evenly back. Which she was. She had a fiancée. And…well, I was just there to watch after her right? Because I wanted to and all. Because she was my issue now. Because I didn't really want to bother with her getting hurt at the moment.

Yeah. She'd be gone off and married soon. Until then I'd keep an eye on her. That's all. That's it.

I looked up to see her walk under a streetlight. Her blonde hair seemed white in the fluorescent light and her small body seemed dwarfed by my brother's large form. Her walk was slow and strained and her mood was wearing thin.

I sighed.

"Give him over," I grumbled, jogging up to the two of them.

She didn't hesitate and soon Boomer's arm was draped over my shoulder and I tried to support him as we moved a bit faster down the street. I took on more of his weight and his feet dragged a bit.

"Thanks," Bubbles smiled at me, rolling her stiff shoulders with relief.

"Whatever," I muttered darkly but I didn't object as she came up beside me fell into step with each footfall. She yawned pitifully and blinked a lot. "You shouldn't have stayed out so late."

"I know," She grinned. "But I didn't really have much of a choice."

"Next time you come out with us we'll let you rest before hand," Brick said as he drew up along her other side. I was surprised he'd invite her anywhere, but the protective way he stood near her spoke plenty.

He understood.

He got it.

And I was slightly relieved he wasn't going to bitch about it either. Brick never really saw the need to keep a girl around steadily (and honestly, neither did I) but he was never one to deny his brothers what they wanted. And it seemed he understood exactly what I wanted. So if I wanted her to stay safe, safe she would remain.

_I_'d make sure of that. Brick's help wasn't needed. But I wasn't going to turn it down either.

"So," Brick said into the dark night air. "A lot has happened since I've bin in the pin."

I sent him a wry look. "Yeah," I muttered. "I know."

--

She, she don't touch me, I don't touch **her**  
We rarely even ever say a word.  
I _really_ want to give her everything she deserves  
But, the **bad** took away the **good**

--

**Sorry it took so long. I hope everyone is enjoying their weeks. It's Saturday! **

**Okay, so, update: There are better pictures of Bubbles/Butch/Buttercup on my profile if anyone want to see what the characters in my stories are supposed to look like. Look at all of Butch and Bubbles' pics, they're so cute!**

**Anyway! Read and review please. Oh, and sorry if this is moving too slowly. I'm thinking….it'll get a bit heated next chapter. You know, who doesn't like a bit of pure attraction?**


	10. Uptown Girl

_Uptown girl,  
You know I've seen her in her uptown world  
She's getting tired of her high class toys  
And all her presents from her uptown boys  
_

"I only have one day," I told Blossom with a bit of panic.

"Well, you should've planned ahead," She told me lightly as the waiter filled her glass with a deep red wine. "What do you think he'd like?"

"I don't know!" I said honestly. "I should get him an amazing gift. I mean, I'm his fiancée. I should know exactly what to get him for his birthday."

Blossom frowned thoughtfully, pursing her crimson lips with concentration. Her red hair was swept back elegantly and a few strands fell into her light pink eyes. Her hands rested on her lap, gently wrinkling the fabric of her dark green dress.

"Well," She tried. "What does he like to do?"

I thought for a moment, running my fingers through my thick blonde hair that hung loosely around my shoulders. My leg bounced a bit in slight nervousness and I fiddled idly with the hem of my light pink sundress.

"I guess…he likes to work," I said feebly. "And he likes tennis, and badminton, and…anything involving his mother."

My sister snorted perversely. "Well, that's helpful," Her tone was dry. "Work and his mother…"

I blushed with indignation. "Well, when you say it like that it sounds bad. He's a truly interesting man and he…and he…and I…"

"Bubbles," Blossom said softly. She reached out and caught my hand from across the table and squeezed it lightly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have insulted him. I know that you didn't mean to make him sound dull, it's just…"

"Don't apologize Blossom, he _is _dull," A voice said from over my shoulder.

I watched as Buttercup came up beside the table, pulling out her chair and plopping down with a sigh. Her black hair was knotted on top of her head, thick locks falling out and around her heart shaped face. Her light green eyes were surrounded by thick eyeliner and dark eye shadow. Her lips, sly and smirking, were tinted a tan color that set off her pale skin.

"He is not dull!" I said quickly, crossing my arms and sending her a ticked look.

"Fine," Buttercup rolled her eyes. She rubbed her palms across her black dress pants and straightened her silver, silk shirt in a distracted manner. "Think what you want. I'm just saying, the man works all the time, plays tennis instead of partying, and thinks his mother is God's gift to the world."

"There's nothing wrong with a man who loves his mother," I whined. "You're just being rude because you're in a bad mood."

Buttercup sent me a withering look before turning her attention to Blossom.

"Don't you agree with me Bloss?" She tried. "The man is as interesting as a brick wall…if even that."

Blossom flushed a bit and looked away from my expecting look.

"Well," She swallowed. "A brick wall is a bit harsh Buttercup, and you should poke fun at Bubbles. She's having an emergency."

"What, is she just now realizing her fiancée is a mama's boy?" She asked haughtily. "Ow!" She yelped as I kicked her shin roughly beneath the table.

"Enough," Blossom hissed. "People are staring. Can you two just behave for ten seconds?"

I felt like crying. "I don't want to fight," I told Blossom. "I just want to know what to get Andy for his birthday."

"Get him a press on tattoo," Buttercup laughed. "One that says, 'I love my mom'."

"Stop it Buttercup," Blossom rubbed her temples distractedly. "You really are in a bad mood today, aren't you?"

"What?" She huffed. "I'd suggest a real tattoo but _Andrew _would probably pass out at the sight of the needle and the very thought of pain."

I stood up in a rush, knocking my chair over and sending it clattering back against the marble floor. I ignored it and the stares of everyone around me and turned angrily away from my sister. I kept my eyes focused on the door and my chin up as I strode from the dining area and into the waiting area of the restaurant.

I breathed shakily before catching sight of the bathroom and rushing towards it, banging through the door with haste.

"God," I said out loud. My voice was strangled and thick with emotion. My heels clicked as I moved to stand in front of the mirror. I leaned against the pink marble sink and stared at myself.

My cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment and anger. My eyes, light blue and big, were rimmed with tears. My flaxen hair fell over one shoulder and I tugged at it with exasperation. I bit my bottom lip hard and it turned red with pain.

But I refused to cry.

It was pointless.

I was supposed to be adult now and adults didn't cry over stupid jabs. Besides, I knew the truth. I knew that Andy was an interesting man. He liked to succeed and help others. He was polite and was raised to intertwine perfectly with the upper class society and everyone involved.

He was a good man, and I was extremely fond of him. I loved him. I did. He was meant for me and soon we'd be married. And I was happy about it. I wanted to marry him. He was perfect and ideal and I was lucky to have him as my future husband.

I choked on a sob that threatened to escape but I allowed no tears to fall.

"Bubbles?" Buttercup's voice startled me and I jerked as her reflection appeared beside mine in the mirror.

"I didn't hear you come in," I told her, swallowing thickly and crossing my arms.

"Yeah, I figured you didn't," She said, watching me closely.

I smiled weakly at her. "Thanks for coming today." I told her, acting very mature if I do say so myself. "I know you don't like to go to these lunches with Blossom and me, but it really means a lot to us. And besides, it's always good to see you dressed up."

She frowned and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever." Her pale cheeks tinted red with a bit of pride though. She always felt slightly uncomfortable with gratitude but I knew she enjoyed it.

"So, why exactly are you in a bad mood?" I pushed, a bit concerned with her ire. She was never in the bests of moods but today she was beyond unpleasant. "Is everything going okay? How's that boy you're dating?"

"Gosh," She laughed. "Don't remind me of him. He's last week's news. I don't have room in my life for men who still want to act like they're twelve. I thought he was a thrill seeker but he was all talk. The moment he saw the video instructions for sky diving he chickened out. It was disgusting."

I smiled and shook my head as she pulled herself up to sit on the ledge of the sink. She leaned back on her palms and looked at me with an eyebrow raised. I shifted under her scrutiny and smiled at her.

"What's with _you_?" She asked. "Why are you in a bad mood?"

"Well, you insulted my fiancée," I reminded her.

"I always insult your fiancée," She retorted but her voice was softer.

"I know," I sighed. "I just…"

"Bubbles," Buttercup's voice was gentle and I looked at up at her. "I'm your sister. I don't mean to hurt you, honestly I don't. I just start insulting people and I can't stop, you know that. I didn't mean to make you upset."

I bit my lip and looked down at the ground.

"I know that," I supplied. "I do. It's just that lately, whenever I think about Andy I get extremely antsy. And the fact that I haven't got him a birthday present yet makes me feel like the worst fiancée ever. And so when you insulted him I felt so…I don't know."

"Do you think you're having those pre-wedding jitters?" She asked.

"Two months in advance?" I groaned.

"Well…maybe…just maybe…" She began. "You're having second thoughts."

"No!" I said quickly, shrilly. "I'm not. I love Andy and I want to marry him."

"Okay," Buttercup put up her hands in defense. "I believe you. I'm sorry I said anything."

"No, its okay," I tried to backtrack. "I just…I just do love him."

Buttercup grinned. "I'm sure."

"I do!" I laughed.

"Just know this," Buttercup sighed as she hopped off the sink to stand before me. I met her light green eyes squarely. "I'm you're sister and that means I won't think any man will ever be good enough for you. It's not that I hate Andy. I just want you to be happy."

"I'm happy," I assured her.

She reached up and smoothed my hair back affectionately. A frown marred her pretty face and made her look much too solemn for a girl so young.

"Even if you are happy," She continued. "I still don't think he's good enough for you."

"He's perfect," I laughed. "He's polite, and understanding, and sweet, and wholesome, and-"

"I get that he's a good guy, Bubbles," Buttercup sighed. "I just don't think he's good enough for you."

"He's perfect," I repeated.

"Yeah," She smiled sadly. "But is that really what you want?"

I smiled a little too brightly and laughed a bit too loudly. But when I opened my mouth to answer her no words came out.

Frustrated, I stepped away from my sister and turned my back to her, facing the stalls.

I remained detached from her, silent and not answering for a few moments. Finally I heard the click of the door as she left and I let out a long, deep sigh. I blinked back moisture in my eyes and bit my lip.

"Honestly," I said to no one. My voice echoed oddly off the tiled walls. "I don't even know what I want anymore."

I don't think I ever did.

--

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" A voice asked me as I ran up the stairs of my apartment building. The stairs, honestly, were pretty grimy and shady and I usually tried to get up or down them as fast as I could. Today, it seemed, I'd be held up a bit.

"Grill broke," I told Ace simply.

His slicked back, black hair shown in the dim lighting and despite the lack of sun his dark shades were still in place. He wore a leather jacket that had to be new and faded jeans. His smile, that never seemed to deter, pulled the olive skin on his face and his white teeth gleamed at me.

"So, you've just been wandering around town then?" He paused on the stair above me, stopping his descent and halting my journey up.

"No," I frowned. I didn't exactly dislike this man but he had the attitude of someone used to getting their way. It was apparent he didn't take no for an answer when he'd dragged me to that bar the other night. "I went to lunch with my sisters."

"Quaint," He smiled.

I nodded slowly and forced a polite smile, "Were you here to visit Butch?"

"Yeah," He shrugged. "And I also had to drop my little sister off."

"Little sister?" I repeated. Boys like Ace didn't really strike me as the type to run the carpool. Or have little sisters.

"You've met her," He told me. "Her name's Jazz. She's small, has brown hair, brown eyes. She acts shy at first but won't stop talking if you get her started."

"Jazz is your sister?" I asked, my voice betraying my shock. Jazz? That sweet little girl?

I looked at the man before me. The resemblance was slightly obvious. Both had dark hair and olive skin. Their noses were slightly similar although Ace's was bent from being broken a few times. I wondered if Ace had the same deep brown eyes as his sister.

"Shocking, no?" Ace laughed, his hand coming up to rub the stubble on his chin.

I fidgeted with the hem of my dress and he merely smiled at me. I ran my fingers through my hair distractedly.

"She loves you a lot," Was finally what popped from my mouth.

Ace's smile faltered.

"Yeah, well, she's young," He shrugged. "She'll learn how to judge character when she's older."

"No! I didn't mean it like a bad thing," I backtracked. "I meant that you must really take good care of her. She admires you so much. She's always mentioning you and talking about how good of a brother you are."

"She mentions you too," Ace smiled again. "All the time. Apparently you got locked out of your apartment…"

I blushed hotly. "That was a long time ago," I said quickly.

He laughed and I stared at him. He truly was a handsome man…in that older, dangerous, thug kind of way. I knew to hesitate when it came to trusting him, but still…he was friends with Butch, and Jazz's brother, and…was he truly _that _bad?

"Well, I should go," I told him, smiling.

"Yeah," He nodded. "Me too. Big Billy thinks he has a good idea for a new heist. I doubt he does, but I'll humor the guy. He is three times my size so…it's better to be safe then sorry. He could crush me with one ass-cheek if he wanted."

He really was a classy fellow, no?

"Um…okay," I said nervously. Big Billy? Heist? "Have a good day."

I moved to step around him and continue going up the last flight but his hand circled my arm before I could get too far. I drew to a stop and turn to face him. Now that we were on the same step I noticed he was quite a bit taller than me. Not as tall as Butch…but still tall.

"You take care of yourself, okay? Watch your back." He said, forebodingly.

I raised an eyebrow. "Watch my back for what?" I questioned calmly.

"The friend of an enemy is an enemy," He explained.

"Doesn't the saying go, 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend'?" I corrected.

"Not in this case," He shrugged, his grip on my arm loosening a fraction. "You've made friends with some strong people in this city…and all our enemies are now your enemies too. Do you understand?"

"The Audley Boys," I guessed. Ace's smile widened with approval. "You're saying since I'm friends with Butch I'm a target now. Are they trying to hurt me?"

"Pretty girls are always targets," Ace laughed and I assumed he was trying to lighten the somber mood that had overtaken the dim stairway. "And yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"I'm not afraid of petty punks," I lied. In truth, gangs were great threats and I wasn't dumb enough to think otherwise. But I knew for a fact (from word around the diner and other hints) that the man I was talking to was a gang leader. I didn't want him to think me fearful or weak.

"You're a brave girl," He let go of my arm and leaned back slightly. I could feel him watching me closely and I shifted and crossed my arms under my chest. "Bravery can get people killed."

"So can stupidity," I retorted, tossing my hair over my shoulder. "Do you really think these men will just attack me? My father will have this city searched and have every one of them arrested if they so much as lay a finger on me. They'd rue the day they crossed me."

"Rich dad?" Ace asked, smiling slyly.

Crap. I forgot I was keeping that on the down low.

"I figured as much," Ace laughed. "You don't exactly fit in with everyone else. You have that aura of a rich woman. Forced confidence, perfect posture, impeccable manners, ready smile, and a mouth that speaks without consent of the mind."

I bristled.

"But don't get too ahead of yourself," Ace continued. "Daddy can only do so much. What if they decide to kill you before Daddy even knows you're in trouble? I'm guessing you don't exactly keep him up to date with your dabbles with criminals."

I ignored the fear that bubbled low in my stomach. _Kill_?

"What I tell my father is none of your business," I said sharply, my chin held high and my posture stiff like any woman of class has been taught to hold themselves. "Now excuse me, but I really must be going. I detest talking about violence or anything of the sort."

I moved to leave but yet again he caught my arm. I leveled him with a cold glare but he simply smiled back at me. He pulled me closer and I frowned up at him. If he wasn't Butch's friend (and a gun-wielding felon no doubt) I would have hauled off and smacked him by now.

"You can't be too cautious," He told me, his voice low. I tried to keep my anger going but a small bout of fear threatened to override my rage. "They could dispose of you and no one would even know."

"That's not true," I protested defiantly.

He raised an eyebrow. "No," He sighed. "I suppose that isn't true. Butch would know, wouldn't he? And that's probably worse then no one knowing at all."

I hesitated, not exactly catching on.

"What's so bad about Butch knowing?" I questioned, unsure why I was even humoring the man. I wasn't going to get hurt. And Butch wouldn't bother to play a part in it even if I did.

"Well, you said you didn't like talking about violence. That probably means you oppose of violence all together," He derived. "And if you get hurt, my dear girl, trust me when I say violence will be the only thing that will ensue afterwards."

"Butch…" I trailed off, his meaning donning on me. "You're saying I should avoid getting hurt, because if I get hurt Butch will go off and hurt the people who hurt me." I felt as if I were speaking in circles. "And then he could get hurt as well or even arrested."

"Don't mistake me," Ace chuckled. "Butch is going to hurt those men regardless of what happens. But if you wish to prolong it or even make their beatings a little less painful, you only need to watch out for them and stay safe."

"And why would Butch care so much about me getting hurt?" I pushed.

Ace released me and stepped away again. I felt him watching me.

"That, my blonde friend, is something you must figure out on your own."

I stared after him as he walked down the steps. I frowned thoughtfully and hugged myself a bit.

"What a strange man," I muttered.

I forced myself not to think too far into what he said. I had no business with gangs or violence and I was planning on staying clear of it. I was just going to carry on as if nothing happened. I needed to run and get Andy a gift real quick anyway. I wouldn't let his words scare me.

…But I did make sure to lock my door as I went into my apartment.

Just in case.

--

The dining hall was decorated with impeccable taste. Everything was lavish and the marble floor shown with a fresh wax. The chandelier hung glittering above my head and the small crystal drops cast small rainbows everywhere. Everyone was in their evening attire and looking well.

The perfect birthday for the perfect man.

"Bubbles!" My father called.

I practically ran to where he stood across the ballroom. He was surrounded by several associates who were all sipping from champagne glasses and watching me approach with smiles. I smiled politely at them before throwing my arms around my father's neck.

"I missed you," I said into his shoulder. He smelled like chemicals and bleach. Just like always.

"I missed you too," He laughed, gripping my shoulders and holding me at arms length in order to asses me. "Look at you! You look different already. It's the city isn't it? It's changing you."

"Yes," I rolled my eyes teasingly. "It's changing me daddy. Soon my hair will be died green and spiked."

"Professor Utonium," A woman giggled from my father's side. I looked over to see her smiling good naturedly at us both. "You really do try to keep that girl too sheltered. The city has done her good, can't you tell? She has some color in her cheeks and she's smiling wider then before."

"Yes," Another woman agreed. "I thought you were crazy for letting her run off into the city but now I see it was needed. Every child needs a small taste of adventure. Why ever did you try and keep her so guarded?"

"I had to keep her around," My father laughed, releasing my shoulders and snatching me a glass of champagne as a waiter walked by. "Both of her sisters left home the moment they could, I needed someone to keep me company."

"Oh no, you don't spend all your time cooped up in your lab, do you?" I asked with worry. I pinned him with a warning look and he merely chuckled and ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair.

"He says he's on the brink of a break-through," A man chuckled. "We try to get him to come out but he won't. He hasn't been golfing with us in weeks."

"Dad," I scolded. "I told you that you couldn't do this. You're supposed to be worried about me, not the other way around."

"I'm a scientist," My father defended, smoothing down his tux. "I'm allowed to have hermit ways."

I rolled my eyes. "Right."

"So how is the city Bubbles?" Mr. Smith, my father's close friend, asked me. "Are you going to stop your little adventure and join us back here anytime soon? We worry about you."

"Don't worry, there's no need," I said, smiling brightly. Inside I was grimacing, however. Adventure? Sure, it was an adventure. And a headache. And a struggle. Did they think I was there picking pansies and combing my hair?

"Oh, there's the Birthday boy now!" A woman giggled. "Run along and greet him, Bubbles."

I turned to see Andy walking down the main staircase. His mother was on his right and his father was on his left. He looked flawless, his blonde hair gleaming and his smile genuine and full of mirth.

I swallowed as he scanned the crowed for my face. His eyes met mine, hazel on blue, and his smile widened. I knew I should walk over to him, embrace him, kiss his cheek, and wish him a happy birthday.

But seeing him standing there, flanked by his affluent parents, and surrounded by everything lavish I could think of, I couldn't approach him. He looked so far away, so distanced, and so out of reach. I felt myself grow smaller in his wake.

I could feel a small rift begin to form where only fond feelings had been before.

"Get a hold of yourself," I whispered fervently. "You're being silly."

He was my fiancée.

I loved him.

There was no rift or distance that could keep us apart.

I smiled brightly and with conviction. With a sense of determination I began my trek over to him, my heels clicking on the floor and my eyes locking with his. He stood waiting for me, smiling brilliantly at me and nodding at whatever his mother was saying into his ear.

"Dear," Andy said once I reached him. "I'm so glad you're on time. I'm sorry I'm late, our limo got caught up in traffic."

"You're hardly late," I joked.

"Bubbles, darling," Andy's mother smiled coldly at me. She never did care too much for me but I'd die before crossing her. "How are you? I haven't seen you in ages."

"I'm well," I told her as Andy slipped my arm into his. "Work has kept me busy."

"Ah, I see," She said stiffly. "You'd rather be working then enjoying your life here."

"Mother," Andy sighed, his eyes darting quickly to me. "We talked about this. We're happy for Bubbles, remember? She's enjoying life in the city. Besides, it's only for a little while. Soon she'll be back and we'll be married."

He squeezed my hand with reassurance but I felt none. I was grateful for him taking up for me but I was tired of his mother's jabs. Everyone else's little remarks were expected and I'd learned to let them roll of my shoulders. But she would be my mother-in-law soon and I felt compelled to need her acceptance.

"How are you, Mrs. Bussey?" I asked her sweetly. She thought me dull-minded but truthfully I knew it was just better to be nice then to fight back. Catch more flies with honey and all…

"I'm doing well," She sniffed, her hazel eyes taking me in. She was a tall woman with minimal wrinkles and thin lips. You could never see her neck due to the layers of pearl necklaces and I don't think she'd ever broken a sweat in her life. "How's…work?"

I smiled. "It's well."

She asked no further questions and I felt no need to elaborate so instead I just turned and looked around the room with mild interest .Mr. Bussey had already wandered off to find the other men no doubt and it wasn't as if he was much conversation anyway. He was never rude to me really, he just didn't really know what to do or say to me.

"Let's go mingle, Birthday Boy," I smiled up at Andy. He looked over at his mother who just nodded her approval.

Together we walked arm and arm around the dining hall. We smiled and laughed with the other guests. People made endearing comments about us and we had plenty to drink and plenty of food trays going around.

And the odd thing was, the close I acted with Andy, the further from him I felt.

And I was frightened to think of the reason why.

--

"Bubbles?" My sister's voice called softly.

I looked up from my spot on a stone bench to see her walking on the granite path towards me. It was far past dark and the party was still in full swing inside but outside in the garden only the glimmer from the windows marked the celebration.

"There you are," Blossom said, her tone rebuking me. She was holding her silver gown up to keep it from dragging and her red hair hung flawlessly about her shoulders. Her pink eyes were gentle. "I've been looking for you for the past fifteen minutes. You disappeared on us."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, rubbing my hands against the blue satin material of my gown. It clung to my every curve and dipped dangerously low in the back. My hair, piled high and clipped variously, was beginning to fall out and a few strands tickled the back of my neck.

"What're you doing out here?" She asked, sitting down beside me. She rubbed her arms. "It's getting colder, you really shouldn't go outside without a jacket."

I looked down at my knees, frowning.

"I'm not cold," I lied simply.

"So…you're just enjoying the fresh air?" She joked. When I didn't answer she reached out and touched my back. She began to rub soothing circles. "Bubbles?"

"I hate it here," I whispered furiously. Blossom's hand stilled against my back. "I didn't think I did, but it's true."

"What happened?" She asked, her tone concerned.

"Nothing," I frowned. "Nothing happened. Everything is the same, that's the whole point. I thought it'd be different when I came back. I thought people would take me serious, or look at me different, or even just simply give me a little bit of respect. But they don't. They're still the exact same as I left them. And to them I'm no different either."

"Who's the exact same?" She asked.

"Everyone," I repeated. "Mrs. Bussey, all the girls from school, the people from the country club, Andy…"

"Is that a bad thing?" She pushed. "Is it so wrong that they haven't changed?"

"No," I felt tears well up in my eyes. "But it's just…_I have_. I've changed everyday I've been away from this place. I didn't think I had, but it's true. I used to just wish for something different from all of this but now I don't feel as if I belong at all."

"You belong wherever I belong," Blossom's tone was serious. "And wherever you are is where I'm meant to be. So, tell me, where is it we're meant to be if not here?"

"You're too smart for this place," I told her and she smiled. "You always have been. And Buttercup is too defiant. The three of us don't belong in there, don't you see?"

"Then where do we belong?" She asked.

"I don't know, I just…" I tried to find the words. "There's a rift, I feel it. Everything inside of there feels so unreal. It's like a dream. I'm not sure what it all means, but when I'm around those people I just ache to be somewhere else."

"Ache to be where?"

"I don't know…" I muttered.

"Listen, I've never liked that kind of lifestyle," She nodded towards the building. "Mainly because I have the brains to make it on my own and I feel like that's overlooked. But I found when I got my own apartment and began my own life, it all got a bit better. Granted…dad still pays for my college and my boyfriend is wealthy as hell…"

I giggled, wiping at my eyes.

"Maybe, just maybe," Blossom began. "You're beginning to like your new life more then your old one here."

I frowned.

"And maybe…" She continued. "You're getting a bad case of pre-wedding jitters."

"Yeah," I nodded.

'_Or_…' I thought. '_I'm having second thoughts…'_

--

It was four in the morning by the time I got out of the cab. My heels clicked rhythmically as I walked into my building and made my way to my apartment. The unnerving feeling and the alienation I'd felt at Andy's party was forgotten as the now familiar dirty walls surrounded me.

If Blossom saw where I was living she's question my mental state. She'd left a mansion and settled comfortably into a large flat on the very outskirts of town. She thought that was a huge change. But who would prefer what I'd gone to over the lavish life I'd left behind?

Me…

I sighed. It was true. I loved the city. I loved depending on myself and carving my own name. Some people still might not take me seriously here as well but I was proving them wrong. I was making it on my own.

And I loved it.

And the rift between Andy and I didn't have to remain. Blossom had assured me that Andy would undoubtedly buy us an apartment in the city if I asked for one. It would be like a get-away. And although I would've preferred living here forever, I'd take what I could get.

I smiled to myself as I passed Butch's apartment door and drew to a stop. I stared at the chipped paint on the wood for a second, contemplating. I thought of the ungodly hour, my state of attire, of the impoliteness of it all…

…and knocked anyway.

"Hey," I said softly when the door opened.

Butch stood there, his hair messy and his clothes rumpled from sleep. His eyes were wide and awake, however, and he was looking at me curiously. No doubt he was wondering what caused me to call on him at this time of day. His green eyes slowly ran up and down my form.

"Nice dress," He said. His voice was deep and husky , the way men's voices get once they awaken from a deep sleep. I decided I liked the sound of it.

"Thanks," I grinned up at him.

--

"You are the most unsocial person I've ever met," I griped from my spot on Butch's couch.

He looked over at me from where he stood in the kitchen area. His face was carefully blank and his dark green eyes were cold. I knew, however, that he wasn't too exasperated with me, despite his look.

Because if he was really mad or annoyed with me he would've just told me to go away the moment he'd opened the door. But he hadn't. No, instead he'd just grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.

He'd quickly folded up his bed, covers and all, and sat me down on it. Then, to my amusement, he'd gotten out a small TV and set in down in front of the couch. I hadn't even gotten a word out edgewise before he flicked on his television for me to watch. I'd stared at the fuzzy screen for a total of ten seconds before growing bored with it.

"I came over to talk with you, not to be sat in front of the television set like a little kid," I told him, pulling my knees up to my chin and wrapping my arms around them. The material of my dress of smooth against my skin.

"Talk about what?" He asked emotionlessly. Everything with him was emotionless.

Sometimes I could catch a glimpse of anger or exasperation but he always did well to cover it up. There was at least a few times where amusement tinted his tone but that too was concealed the moment he realized it'd leaked out.

I wondered why he kept all his emotions so wound up within himself.

"I wanted to make sure those Audley Boys didn't hurt you too bad the other day," I explained, my earlier conversation with Ace on my mind. If Ace seemed unsettled I knew I should be worried. "I never got a chance to ask you at the bar."

"You don't need to concern yourself with that," He said stiffly. "Just watch T.V."

"No," I groaned dramatically. "I didn't come over here so that you could ignore me. I know you think television is a stand in for human relationships but it's not. I'm concerned for your safety, you should be grateful to have such a caring friend like me."

The boy snorted at that. "God, it's four in the morning, just let it rest Betty. You don't need to get involved."

"If I remember correctly, I was in that stolen car with you," I said with fake contemplation. "Which means, I do believe, that it _is _my business. I have every right to get involved."

"The Audley Boys would have found a reason to hate us no matter what happened," Butch said slowly. He walked over and grabbed a pair of jeans off the armrest of the couch. "It was only a matter of time before this happened."

"But they hurt you," I tried to make my point clearer. He obviously didn't understand the importance of concern.

"No," He corrected. "I hurt them."

True, he didn't seem too injured besides scuffed knuckles. But still…they could've hurt him.

"But they're just going to keep trying, aren't they?" I asked.

Butch looked over at me from the corner of his eye as he bent to pick up a pair of boxers. He stood fluently and raised and eyebrow at me.

"I already told you they wouldn't hurt you," He said, as if he finally understood the point of my visit. And, okay, I was a bit worried that I'd pissed off a scary gang…but I was honestly scared for him as well. Men have this habit of thinking they're invisible. It was only a matter of time before fortune was against Butch.

And maybe Ace was right. Maybe I didn't care for violence. And if only Butch would stop fighting…

"Fine," I conceded, realizing that this conversation had run its course for now. Trying to convince him to stop fighting altogether would be a long discussion and I was much too tired for it. "Whatever." I pouted. "I'll just sit here quietly and watch TV"

"Good," Butch said, not acknowledging my obvious sarcasm. "I have to shower for the day since I'm up anyway. Just sit still and stay there until I'm back."

"What am I? A dog?" I asked, miffed.

He threw me a look over her shoulder, "Fine, honey, do what you want. Look around, snoop, sleep, whatever."

_Honey_?

"Gee, thanks," I muttered.

"Or you can join me if you want."

I chocked on air and looked up at him. He was smirking down at me, his eyes briefly flashing with amusement. He was probably a few inches over six feet and his whole body literally loomed over me. I swallowed.

"W-what?" I stuttered, sure I'd heard him wrong.

"I know you think conversation is a stand in for human relationships, Betty," He said impassively, repeating my former words with an air of nonchalance. "But it's not. I'm concerned for your hygiene, you should be grateful to have a caring friend like me."

I giggled despite the heat rushing across my chest and up my neck.

"Conversation isn't a stand in for human relationships, it's the _makeup_ of human relationships," I said smartly, pretending to have forgotten his previous offer.

Butch's eyes darkened and he leaned down towards me, his hands resting on the top of the couch on either side of my head. His face was a breath away from my own. I could smell the cool mint of his breath and see the gold flecks against the green iris of his eyes.

_He's beautiful_…

"There's more to human relationships then conversations," He said, his voice low and rough and I felt my stomach coil with an unfamiliar emotion. "I could show you…_everything_…"

_Really?_

"Uhn," I gasped out, gripping the edge of the couch tightly. I didn't know what I'd do if I let go.

Part of me screamed to push him away, smack him, punch him. But another part of me protested. It demanded for me to grab him. To pull him towards me. Because he smelled _so good_. And his face was so close. And his eyes had golden flecks. And I'd only have to let go of the edge of the couch and then I could terminate the distance between us.

If I just let go…

"Butch…" I said feebly.

He must've caught the tone of protest in my voice because a small smile broke out across his face and a certain part of me (that was not at all logical) melted at the sight of it. I nearly jumped out of my skin when one of his hands trailed down to rest on my collarbone. His touch was feather-light and I shivered.

His fingers felt as if they were burning against my skin. My whole body felt as if it were on fire.

"Butch…" I tried again. What was I doing here again?

"You're hearts pounding a million miles a minute," He observed, smirking. God, was he enjoying this?

Was _I_?

"Are you afraid of me?" His tone was deep and his eyes were _so_ green.

"No," I said, my tone stern.

I wasn't afraid of him…but I was terrified of what he was doing…

"Butch," I said, my voice more steady then I expected it to be. "Go take a shower. You smell. And you're blocking the TV."

He straightened. His eyes lost the wicked look they'd previously had and once again he was cold and unreadable.

"Right," He said composedly. The heat from before that had seemed to fill the room disappeared as he glanced coolly down at me.

And then he walked back into the bathroom, shutting the door sharply behind him. I winced at the slam and let out a long breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. I let go of my vice-like grip on the couch cushion and noticed dully that my hands were shaking.

"Right," I whispered, my eyes flicking to the TV as an old rerun of _I Love Lucy_ came on. I could barely focus on it despite how much I tried and I sighed in irritation. I leaned forward and flicked off the set before standing up.

What just happened?

Butch was a different kind of man then I was used to. That's all. I wasn't used to the dangerous rush and heady coil that he emitted. And he, obviously, wasn't used to the boundaries that came with an engaged girl.

So it was best just to ignore all actions made without thinking. He didn't like me, it was just how he was used to treating girls. And I didn't like him, he was just different.

I nodded; glad I had resolved that situation in my head.

I was merely tired and so was he. There was nothing to fret or overanalyze.

I stretched my arms above my head, arching my back and moaning at the movement. My body still felt as if it were on fire and I longed to find something to do to distract me. My eyes scanned the apartment with mounting interest. I'd seen most of it the other day when I'd straightened it up but I hadn't allowed myself to snoop then. But Butch had told me I could look around, so…

--

I found that his apartment was quite bare. I already knew there wasn't much furniture but there wasn't much else in it either. There were no pictures on the walls, books lying around, or anything of true interest.

Trust me, I'm pretty sure I'd know if there was. I'd been walking around staring at everything for a good five minutes.

I rolled my eyes at the small pile of clothes on top of a small table in the corner. Since there was nothing else to do I set to work folding them up. They were clean and smelled vaguely of cheap laundry detergent. I blushed pathetically as my hands nimbly folded a pair of soft, cotton boxers.

God, his little display had really put me off kilter. I was acting like a brainless sucker in those corny romance movies where they melt by just looking into a man's eyes.

And…it was highly inappropriate for me to be acting in such as way.

I was raised with more dignity and class and…self deprivation obviously.

Once done folding the laundry I looked around again, bored. I noticed that there was a piece of paper sticking out from one beneath the corner of the folded up couch. Curious, and nosey, and beyond bored I reached down and gently pulled the paper out and turned it over.

It wasn't a piece of paper.

It was a picture.

I frowned thoughtfully as I looked the stilled image over. It was a small, worn picture of a woman. Her eyes were clear and wide and haunted. Her smile was small and sad. But despite that, she was gorgeous. Tragically so. Her hair was dark, short, and wavy. Her skin was tanned and perfect. She was wearing a simple white, shapeless dress that hung from her slim shoulders. And still she was captivating.

The picture itself had seen its better days. It had been folded, creased, and faded slightly. It held no glossy texture. But none of that did anything to detract from the obvious beauty of the woman in the photograph. Her posture was delicate, her arms hugging herself. Her feet were bare and slightly dirty.

Who _was_ this woman?

"You're still here," Butch's voice reached my ears. "I heard the television turn off and figured you left."

"No," I mumbled, turning to face him and I froze.

And then I let out a soft sigh as heat filled my body and my stomach began to coil again. What had I said about silly women in movies? I couldn't quite remember, because, well…

…_Beautiful_…

And he was. He stood there, in low slung jeans and nothing else, and I couldn't look away.

His tanned skin was still slick and shining from the shower. His arms, muscled and sinewy, led down to large, strong hands. His hip and collar bones stuck out attractively, becoming defined. His stomach was toned and lined with a six pack, and when he breathed traces of an eight pack were revealed. And from his navel there was a trail of dark hair that edged down and disappeared beneath the waist of his jeans.

I noticed, in the still coherent part of my brain, that he had tattoos. Two black ravens, with wings spread and facing each other, decorated his hipbones, one on each side. On his left breastbone, just above his heart, there was a tribal sign. It was mostly circular, made up of intricate lines and designs. On his right shoulder there was a cross, wrapped in a ribbon. The ribbon said a name but I couldn't make it out from where I was standing.

"Betty?" His voice crashed me back into reality at a vicious speed.

"What?" I asked, my voice sounding very far away. I blushed, mortified when I realized I'd been obviously checking him out. God, how humiliating.

"I said, 'Can you pass me a shirt?'" He repeated slowly. If he'd noticed my staring he wasn't going to mention it and I silently thanked him for his discretion.

"Of course," I said with a forced smile. I reached back and snagged a shirt off the folded pile and tossed it at him. He caught it and tugged it on. I looked away, ignoring the stretch and pull of his muscles as he moved.

"So what were you looking at before I walked back in?" He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

If he wasn't going to mention his earlier actions…then, well…neither was I. And I wasn't going to think of them either. At all. Ever.

I sighed and looked at his face for the first time since he'd walked out of the bathroom. His cheeks were flushed from the heat of the shower; his hair was liquid ink as it fell into his eyes. I remembered how soft his hair was from the time he'd been sick and I clenched my fingers at my side. Water dripped from the tendrils and ran down the edge of his strong jaw. His jade eyes were framed with thick, wet eyelashes that stuck into mini-points.

"I just," I fumbled, unsure of myself. Unsure of everything. "I just found this picture."

He said nothing, simply raised an eyebrow as his eyes trailed down to the picture I was still gripping.

"I don't know who it's of," I rambled. "But she's gorgeous. I'd kill to have hair like that and her eyes…wow, they're so dark. But in a good way! And her whole posture is an odd mixture of confident and unsure. And…And-"

"I've seen the picture before," Butch's voice cut me off. I was surprised to hear an edge of impatience in it.

I backtracked. "Oh course you have, I'm sorry. I just…" I swallowed. Man had I put my foot in my mouth. "She's pretty, that's all. Is she your girlfriend?"

Butch's eyes darkened slightly at the question but besides that he stayed perfectly immobile and indifferent.

"No," He said after a moment of tense silence. His voice was low but the angry edge was gone.

I felt oddly relieved at his answer but didn't let myself wonder why.

"Who is she?" I asked.

He reached forward and smoothly detracted the picture from my loose grasp. He didn't look at it before sliding it face down on the small table, his body angled away from me now. I watched his jaw tense.

"She's my mom," He said finally. He wasn't looking at me, and his shoulders were stiff.

"Oh," I breathed out, my skin prickling at the sense of foreboding hanging in the air. "She's beautiful, Butch."

_Just like you_…

"Yeah," He sighed, his face shadowed and his tone detached. "A lot of people thought so."

"Where does she live now?" I asked, not sure why I was continuing to ask about an obviously serious topic.

He looked over at me, his emerald eyes indifferent.

"She's dead," He said simply.

I sucked in a breath, "Oh…Butch…"

"Don't apologize," He bit out.

I swallowed and nodded. Hesitant as to what I was supposed to do I reached out and gently touched his arm. His skin was warm and his arm was firm beneath my hand. He tensed but let my hand stay.

"She's beautiful," I repeated.

He looked at me, staring as if I weren't real. I bit my lip and stepped closer to him. He opened his mouth and I saw the hesitation in his eyes. I steeled myself for whatever he was going to say.

"Get out," He said in a dead tone.

And I did.

But not before I leaned up on my toes and kissed him delicately on his cheek.

--

And as a rift began to form in my life…a bond began to form as well.

Or maybe it had been formed a long time ago and I hadn't really realized it.

But really, what does it matter when or how stuff happens? As long as it does, right? And at any cost, there was a new movement on the horizon. A stirring inside of me. I'd awoken something that I hadn't realized existed. I'd started something I'd never sensed coming.

And there, between the lines of choosing and second thoughts, where every choice mattered…I chose not to think at all. Because sometimes thinking meant you overanalyzed everything.

And some things are meant to just happen.

Because some things don't need to be thought through.

Maybe I knew that somehow.

And maybe, just maybe, it would all work out in the end.

--

_Uptown girl  
She's been living in her uptown world  
I bet she never had a back street guy  
I bet her mama never told her why_

--

**Hmm…maybe not as heated as you'd hoped…but it's the start, right?**

**Besides, Butch is up next…**

**And a new living arrangement as well?**

.


	11. Prayer Of The Refugee

**Warning****: there are mature themes in this story. The reason it's still rated 'T' is because I believe there is nothing written here that any teenager hasn't heard before. Maybe I just have too much faith in teenagers, but oh well.**

**If you are offended easily, just don't read. It's really quite simple.**

_--_

_Warm yourself by the fire, son,  
And the morning will come soon.  
I'll tell you stories of a better time,  
In a place that we once knew._

Before we packed our bags  
And left all this behind us in the dust,  
We had a place that we could call home,  
And a life no one could touch.

_--_

"_Butch!" The old woman's voice was sharp and loud as it called for me. I walked out from the room I shared with my brothers and five other boys and went to the edge of the stairwell. On the bottom floor Mrs. Falun, the woman who ran the orphanage, stood waiting for me._

_I jogged down the steps when I noticed her ire. She wasn't the type of woman you aimed to piss off. Unless, of course, you were me, in which case I tended to piss everyone off without even trying. Most people just dealt with it but Mrs. Falun liked to try her hand at punishing me. She'd grown bitter with age and I knew that I'd miss a meal if I kept her waiting. Taking away dinner was her favorite punishment. _

"_What the hell were you thinking, boy?" She asked when I reached her. Her arms were crossed over her large stomach and her mouth was pulled into a scowl. _

"_Can you first tell me what I did?" I said sardonically. "That way I can tell you what I was thinking of while doing it."_

"_You know what you did," She was really mad, her cheeks were flushed red and I thought I saw her eye twitch. Huh. "I just got a call from the school. Your teacher said you were fighting today at the playground. That's the third time this week, do you know what that means?"_

"_It means…the other kids aren't taking the hint?" I tried._

_Her eye twitched again. Okay, so I got that question wrong._

"_Try again," She said, her voice tight._

"_It means I'm not getting dinner tonight, doesn't it?" I sighed._

_Great, and I was hungry too._

"_Good deduction," She shook her head. "Honestly, I do all I can for you kids. I take you off the streets, give you a place to live, somewhere to sleep, food three times a day, and look how you repay me! I don't even know what to do anymore. If you think…"_

_I tuned her out, having heard this speech numerous times since I'd come to live here. I watched her rage on for a short while, shifting on my feet and shoving my hands in my pockets. I noticed my jeans were already getting too short on me, but until my next birthday I knew I wouldn't any larger ones. You only got new clothes on birthdays or Christmas. I just hoped I wouldn't grow too much taller until then._

"_Butch!" She cut through my thoughts. "Are you listening to me?"_

"_Yes ma'am," I replied, my eyes shifting briefly towards the door where I could hear some screaming and joking coming from outside. The other kids had probably started a football game in the street and I wondered if I could go out and join in real quick._

"_Do you even have a good reason for fighting?" She asked with an edge of weariness to her tone._

_I looked over at her tired face._

"_They pushed Boomer down," I explained, a little put off that the teacher hadn't already told her that. If they were going to call and rat me out they should damn well give the whole story. Public schools were seriously going into the toilets if this is how they were run._

"_And so you fought them?" She seemed to grimace. Why didn't she see the logic in that? "What would your mother say?"_

_I flinched, feeling cold._

"_He's my brother," I said, ignoring her second question. "I can't just let people push him around."_

_My mother would have understood…_

"_You're only seven," Mrs. Falun tried to catch my attention but it just kept wavering to the game being held outside. "You're just going to end up like every other punk on the streets if you keep up the way your going. Is that what you want? Do you want a life of dodging the law and barely scraping by?"_

_I frowned._

"_I'm only seven."_

_She pinned me with a look. "Yes," She shook her head. "But sometimes it scares me how old you act. Your eyes are too old for a seven year old. And you're too angry. Seven year olds aren't supposed to be angry already."_

_I shifted my weight. "I'm not the only kid here who gets in fights."_

_She snorted. "No joke. It feels like every other minute I'm getting a call from some parent about one of you beating up their child. But you, you're different. I can tell you'll be trouble every step of the way."_

_I felt flattered that she thought so._

"_Can I go outside now?" I asked._

"_No," She sighed. "Go upstairs and take a bath. It's straight to bed for you and no food for the rest of the night. I'll send someone up with an icepack later for your eye. You're aware that you have a black eye, right?"_

"_I kind of got the feeling I did when it swelled shut," I said coldly. "But don't worry too much about it ma'am, I'm sure it'll be better after a few days. I only need one eye to see anyway."_

"_Cute," She said snidely. "You just keep fighting and see where you end up. You're going to regret pissing people off and pushing others away with your bad attitude when you're older. I wish I could be there when your past catches up to you."_

"_You're very cynical," I said, tilting my head and regarding her closely. "You aren't one of those women who get off on seeing others in pain, are you?"_

"_Go to bed," She sighed tiredly as she turned to head towards the kitchen. _

_I ran up the steps, the stairs creaking with each move I made. I could always sneak out the window and join the game outside. _

"_Oh, and Butch!" Mrs. Falun's voice made me halt and I gripped the rail and gazed down at her. "That last comment earned you no dinner for a week."_

"_Perfect," I muttered. _

_She acted as if I had a promising future anyway. Who was going to adopt a seven year old boy who couldn't stop fighting and already had a knack with theft? Besides, I had my two brothers and I wasn't going to go anywhere without them. People didn't exactly adopt triplets. _

_No, my future was destined to be bleak. She was kidding herself for thinking anything different. I was only seven but I knew how to be logical._

_And so I'd keep fighting, and stealing, and pissing as many people off as I wanted…_

…_it wasn't as if I was ever going to really need anyone but myself anyway._

--

The storm hit the city with a vengeance. Thunder echoed off the sides of the buildings and rain fell from the sky at a harsh angle. With the sudden change in the weather it was only expected that a storm would generate, but still each flash of lightening seemed to shake people.

I stood under a small awning across the street from the diner. My body was soaked and I pressed my back against the wall to try to keep away from the sheet of water falling off the edge of the tin cover above me. I watched as women scrambled frantically to gather their laundry from the lines between the buildings and the store keepers worked hard to move their outside displays into the safety of their stores.

A flash of tan caught my eye from across the street and I took a long drag from my cigarette as a familiar blonde exited the diner. She brought her hands over her head as if that would protect her from the rain. I frowned and shook my head at her valiant effort to keep dry.

"Betty!" I said, raising my arm to motion her over. The rain swallowed my words but somehow she saw me and she looked both ways before running across the street to reach me.

I shifted so that she could get under the awning too. She panted slightly and settled back against the wall. Her shoulders brushed my arm as we leaned comfortably beside each other under the small, make-shift shelter.

"My god!" She laughed brightly. I looked down at her and her blue eyes were shining with an odd since of relief. "I love the rain."

I stared impassively at the drenched city before us. "What's so great about it?"

She smiled brightly and stuck out her hand so that the rain could hit her palm.

"I don't know, I guess I just like the sound of it," She said thoughtfully. "And everything smells better after the rain too. All fresh and clean and…I'm rambling, aren't I?"

I looked down at her again to see her grimace slightly, embarrassed.

"I'd tell you if you were annoying me," I said simply and from the corner of my eye I caught her smile. "So, ready to head home?"

"Home sounds great," She nodded. "I felt like work dragged on forever today…but you don't have to walk me home you know."

"If you don't want me to-"

"No!" She said quickly and I smirked slightly before blowing out a puff of smoke. "I don't mind the company. And to be honest I thought you were avoiding me after the other day. I didn't think…I wasn't thinking when I was asking about your mother. I'm sorry."

Her tone was sincere. Everything she did was sincere and honest and unplanned. I wished she had the commonsense to hide a bit of what she was feeling. People got hurt when they didn't block some of their emotions and yet she never tried to filter her own.

But despite that thought, I knew I didn't mind her honesty too much. It was oddly refreshing to be around someone who didn't have ulterior motives or secret meanings behind everything they did. And her little impulses (like grabbing my sleeve randomly or kissing my cheek like she had done the other night) weren't exactly much to complain about.

"Forget it," I said briskly.

She nodded, appeased. We watched the rain fall for a moment and I let her enjoy the sound of it against the tin cover for a while. I didn't care too much for rain either way but I saw no harm and letting her stand there. I had to finish off my cigarette anyway.

"Come on," I said after tossing my cigarette onto the sidewalk and stepping on it. I reached out and grabbed her wrist lightly, tugging it so that she'd follow after me. Together we stepped out into the cold, pelting rain and began walking briskly towards the apartment building.

It was slightly difficult to navigate the street as people shouldered against us in their own effort to get out of the weather. I held onto her wrist a bit tighter and dragged her along, creating a path for her with my body. Rain slipped off my hair and into my eyes and already a chill had worked its way through me as my clothes became drenched.

"Okay, maybe I like the rain when I don't have to be in it," Bubbles said from behind me. She pulled her wrist from my grip in an effort to brush some hair (and water) from her face.

"We're close," I told her simply.

We turned the corner, the building finally in sight, when Bubbles stepped awkwardly on the slick curb. I saw her slip and caught her roughly around her waist before she could face plant into the wet cement.

"Whoa," I breathed out, her body knocking the air out of me as I brought her roughly against my side.

"Ouch," She hissed, her voice barely carrying over the sound of the storm around us. Lighting flashed forebodingly above us. "God, can I be a bigger klutz?"

I chuckled. "Can you stand on your own?" I murmured against her ear in an effort to be heard over the rain. It wasn't as if I minded her pressed up against me but-

"Yes," She said curtly, pushing roughly against me in an effort to step away. "I can most definitely walk on my own."

I frowned and released her. She ducked her head, her blonde hair spilling around her and blocking her face from sight. She rolled her ankle as she stood, testing it out. Despite the fact that I couldn't see her face I could still see her shoulders flinch with pain. I scowled at this.

"We're almost there," I said. "Can you walk just one more block?"

"Sure," She giggled but her voice was strained.

I stood still, watching her carefully as she took a step and-

"Or not," She muttered dryly as I tried to balance her, my hands on both her shoulders to keep her from crumpling to the ground. She frowned down at her feet and then smiled brightly up at me. She blinked a bit as rain fell into her eyes. "Just leave me, Butch!" She said in a playfully dramatic voice. "I can't go on! Save yourself!"

People rushing by us to get out of the rain sent us strange looks. They undoubtedly thought we were insane and I wasn't blaming them. But I wasn't exactly going to chastise the girl in front of me either. She smiled through her pain which was more then most people could accomplish.

"Hop on," I said lowly.

I didn't give her a chance to question me before turning my back to her and reaching behind me. I was lucky she was so light because it made it easier to practically haul her onto my back and settle her against me. She squealed in shock, her arms impulsively circling my neck and her legs wrapping around my waist.

Okay, sue me. It seemed like a decent (if not chivalrous) idea at the time. But once she was actually on me, her chest pressed against my back, her thighs squeezing my hips, and her breath hot against my ear…well…I realized about then that I was going to have issues.

One of those issues being the severe urge to pin her against the side of the closest building in order to fuck her.

"Am I too heavy?" She asked, her breath hitting my ear and making my jaw clench.

I said nothing, not trusting the sound of my voice. I knew it'd be raspy and low and I didn't need her inching closer in an effort to hear me. So instead I began to walk, my hands coming up and gripping her legs to keep her from slipping. Her uniform had risen up due to her position and her pale skin was wet from the rain and smooth beneath my hands.

"I haven't been carried in a long time," She was saying. I had trouble concentrating on her words and mentally thanked God for the cold rain against my skin. I knew it was the only thing keeping me remotely sane and I tried to focus on it.

'_Only one more block…'_ I thought, my pace quickening. She bounced against me and clutched me tighter. '_Walk faster, idiot_.'

I was about to cross the street, the entrance to the building only a few yards away, when something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. I stopped, my grip on Bubbles' thighs becoming painfully tight when I noticed about three Audley Boys walking rapidly towards us.

"Fuck this," I cursed as I saw one pull a blade from his pocket and squint at me through the rain. "Betty," I murmured to girl on my back in a serious voice. "Can I trust you to do as I say?"

"What?" Her tone was confused and I knew my sudden stop had worried her. I felt her hair hit my neck as she looked over and caught sight of the approaching danger. She went rigid against me and I felt my stomach clench with an intense surge of protectiveness. It was becoming a familiar feeling, seeing as I had begun to get feel it often times I was around her.

"I'm going to set you down and I want you to stay behind me, okay?" I instructed, letting go of her legs and allowing her to slide down into a standing position. I knew she couldn't make a run for the building but I really wished she could.

"Butch," Her voice was painted with worry. "Let's just walk away. If they hurt you-"

"Butch!" One of the men shouted at me, cutting her off. I glared stonily back it him, not recognizing any of them but realizing that they were all a little bit older then me. "You know why we're here."

Thunder clapped loudly, making the windows around us vibrate and I fought the urge to turn and glance at the blonde girl behind me. I knew it would do me no good to see her standing there, frightened and soaked and miserable. I needed to stay focused.

"I already told your friends, your car is in the bay," I said dully.

"We're not here because of the car," Another one shouted. "You'll pay for injuring members of our gang. No one hurts us and gets away with it."

I felt like rolling my eyes. They couldn't care less about those five young punks I'd beaten up. They just wanted a reason to fight me and this was their best excuse. Pathetic idiots.

"If five of you couldn't take me, what makes you think three can?" I called out arrogantly.

The one on the left smirked at this. "We have a different angle now," He said back. I watched as a gun surfaced from his pocket and he leveled it quickly at….Bubbles?

_Shit._

"I thought I said to stay behind me," I bit out at her, cursing her inwardly. Stupid, stupid girl.

She looked at me from where she stood about two feet away. Her blue eyes were wide and she frowned before turning her attention back to the man pointing the gun towards her.

"I-I thought…" She was trying her best to act brave, I could tell. I then noticed a lead pipe gripped in her hand behind her back. She must've seen it and moved to grab it when I hadn't been paying attention. Brave girl, but a pipe was no defense against a bullet. She should have stayed behind me.

"So, what do you say Butch?" The man with the gun yelled for me. I felt my blood boil and my vision bleed red at the audacity of the man. How dare he raise a gun at her? "Are you ready to listen to our reasoning? It won't be long before we're running this place; you might as well start acting accordingly."

In a move so fast (since I had barely any time to even think) that they had no time to react, I grabbed my pocket knife from my jeans and hurled it towards the man holding the gun. The blade embedded itself in his hand and the gun clattered unthreateningly into a puddle on the ground.

"Damn!" He hissed, clutching his hand against his chest and blood flowed steadily from it. He tried to remove the blade but it was too deep.

I didn't give them the time to recover before rushing forward and laying one out flat with a punch. Another one tackled me from the side and pinned me to the sidewalk, using his weight to keep me there. My back scraped against the wet cement as I wrestled him off. He punched me in the stomach and I stumbled back a step before regaining my balance.

With as much force as I could gather, I grabbed him and tossed him against the brick wall near us. His skull hit the wall and he slumped down to his knees. Smirking and my blood pumping, I turned to the last one…only to meet the barrel of the once discarded gun.

"You're fast," The man commented, my knife still sticking from his hand that was holding the firearm. "But even you can't dodge a bullet. Especially not at this range."

I ignored him, my eyes flickering around, trying to catch sight of the blonde girl but I could see her. A sick sense of rage boiled in my gut and I felt the urge to slaughter the man before me, despite the gun in my face. _He must've done something to her when I was distracted._

"If you so much as touched her, you son of a bitch, I'll kill you as slowly and painfully as possible," I managed to say around the rushing of blood in my ears. I didn't care if the gun made my threat seem void. Fury killed my logic.

"What are you-" He began to ask, his mouth frowning and the gun pushing against my forehead. He didn't get to finish his sentence, though, before a dull crack was heard and his eyes rolled back into his head. His knees buckled and he fell uselessly to the ground, drenched with rain and blood flowing from his hand.

"Wow," Bubbles whispered in disbelief, staring down at the pipe her hands as if she'd just realized she was holding it. "It worked."

I let out a breath before stepping over the unconscious man in order to reach the girl. I grabbed the pipe from her hand and tossed it back into the alley edge where she'd most likely found it. I placed one hand on her neck and with the other I grabbed her chin and raised it up so that she was staring into my eyes. Rain fell against her pale cheeks and her blonde hair stuck to her skin. She was panting slightly (whether it was from shock or the pain of moving on her ankle I wasn't sure) and she stared blankly back at me.

"Are you okay?" I asked. She blinked but said nothing. Her blue eyes were clear and unsure. "Did he hurt you?" I pushed. I moved my hands to grab her shoulders and I shook her a bit. "_Betty_."

"I want to go inside now," She said, her voice tinted with panic.

"Yeah, of course baby. I'm going to take you inside," I assured her, my hand coming up to smooth the wet strands of hair from her face. I ignored the soothing tone of my voice and instead chose to focus on the now shivering girl before me. Rain dripped from her eyelashes and her uniform was plastered to her body like a second skin.

I bypassed the piggyback ride and instead grabbed her around the waist. Her legs effortlessly circled my hips (this time from the front) and her arms gripped my shoulders. I sighed as she buried her face into the side of my neck, her hair soft against the underside of my jaw. Her chest was pressed against my own and I tried to ignore the fact that this position was a lot more intimate then the one before.

'_It's a hard fact to ignore…_'

I held her close as I walked across the street and into our apartment building. My shoes squeaked against the floor and water fell from us like a drainpipe. I didn't turn back to see if the fallen men had made an effort to get up. I didn't care.

I did, however, care about the girl clutching at me like a leech. She was shivering harder now as the cool air in the building hit her wet form. Her nails dug into my shoulders and her quick breathing made her breasts brush against my chest repeatedly. I ran my hands against the wet fabric of her uniform, the lines of her bra against my palms, as I made unconscious soothing gestures.

"I'm sorry," She whispered against my neck. "I should have stayed behind you."

I said nothing and instead pulled her impossibly closer, her hips teasingly rubbing against my own as I ran up the stairs and towards my room.

I had to find a place to set her down real quick because it seemed my body was fast to forget the fight and overlook her fear. It was reacting to the way she was held against me and I fought for control. I only hoped she was truly naïve enough to not understand what was pressing so closely against her.

--

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" Bubbles asked curiously. She was sitting on my bed (which I'd left pulled out from the night before), wearing a pair of my flannel pajama pants and one of my t-shirts. She was much too small for the clothes and the cotton material swamped her form completely. Her hair was combed and wet and a blanket was pulled up around her shoulders.

"I don't know," I shrugged as I handed her a cup of steaming coffee. I wasn't sure if she drank the stuff but she smiled appreciatively and inhaled the scent.

I stepped back and took a sip of my own mug. The hot liquid felt good on my throat.

"I have to admit," She laughed. "I was kind of scared there at the beginning."

I recalled the feeling of her going rigid with fear against me and the look on her face when she'd seen the gun aimed at her. Both memories caused a bad taste to rise in my mouth and a low twist of anger to tighten my stomach muscles.

"Sorry, again, for stepping out from behind you," She looked bashfully down into her coffee, avoiding my gaze. "You really had to move fast in order to save me. And you lost your pocket knife…sorry…"

"Don't think about it," I said uncomfortably. "You did well. I would have been sleeping with the fishes tonight if you hadn't bashed that guy with that pipe."

She blushed at that and glanced up at me from beneath her dark lashes. "Oh, I don't know," She smiled teasingly. "You probably would have found a way out of that situation. You were like…Jet Li out there. They couldn't keep you down for more then two seconds. You would've been okay."

I smirked, foolishly glad she'd been so impressed. We lapsed into silence and I sipped my coffee again, crossing my other arm across my stomach and leaning against the wall. I didn't have anywhere to sit besides the couch/bed so I opted to stand. I frowned and kicked the pile of our wet clothes out of the way.

"Do you want me to make you something else to drink or eat?" I asked suddenly. She looked at me in shock before glancing down at her untouched coffee. A worry line creased her brow.

"Oh! I'm sorry," She said quickly. "I don't usually drink coffee; I didn't mean to appear rude. I'll just try it, I'm sure it's-"

"Betty," I laughed at her flustered ramblings. I moved forward and grabbed the mug from her hands. "It's fine, I'll just make you something else."

She was looking at me oddly, her eyes practically dancing and her smile wide. I raised an eyebrow in question.

"You laughed," She explained. "I've never heard you laugh before. You're usually stony, or smirking, or rarely chuckling…but…"

I cursed myself as I felt my face heat up with a blush. I turned towards the kitchen to avoid letting her see my reaction to her awe. I'd never thought anything of my laugh before, but the way she reacted you'd think it was the single best sound in the world.

"Do you like beer?" I asked, looking into my refrigerator. I heard her giggle. "Okay, or not," I looked around the practically bare shelves of the fridge. "How about…beer?"

"Here," She said, her voice surprisingly close. I turned to see her standing a few feet behind me, her eyes amused and her lips quirked with a smile. "I'll fix us some dinner. You go in there and rest. You had a big day playing hero for me and you deserve to kick back and relax."

I scowled.

"I'm not a hero," I said, detesting the very sound of the word.

She limped a bit as she walked and I fought the urge to pick her up and carry her back to the couch. She leaned into my fridge, a smile on her face. Her wet hair fell around her shoulders and dampened the back of my large shirt. The green flannel pants dragged the ground and the waist was tied as tight as it could go to keep them from falling off her slim hips.

"Yes, you are," She looked over her shoulder at me. Her eyes were very blue. "You're _my_ hero, so deal with it."

Well…it didn't sound _too_ bad when she said it like that.

Though, I'd never admit to that. The last thing I needed was to be considered as someone's hero. God, the guys would get a laugh out of that one. I could practically hear Ace's sarcastic comments and stupid wit as it was.

"How does rice and fish sound?" She asked, gazing into my now open freezer.

"I have fish?" I asked.

She moved the pack over and read the date. "Yeah, and it is okay to eat too."

I shrugged. Who knew?

"Fish sounds fine," I said nonchalantly. I hadn't cooked a meal in my apartment in… forever and it was weird to think of eating an actual home-cooked meal. I don't even remember where my pans were.

Take-out and piazza delivery was more my style.

"What do we have to drink?" She asked. I cursed my inability to keep a bottle of wine around. I didn't normally entertain guests and the ones that I occasionally did weren't the kind to drink wine…or stick around long.

She didn't seem to mind though…or notice.

"Well…we have water," She smiled and then reached into my fridge. "And for you: beer. Ta da!"

I smirked and grabbed the beer bottle she'd pulled out for me.

"Now go get your TV out and watch it while I make us some dinner," She ordered bossily. "I'm new to this whole cooking thing and I don't need an audience."

The 'new to this whole cooking thing' had me worrying slightly but I conceded easily enough and went away. I grabbed my TV from my closet and set it up in front of the bed. It left little room to walk around but I ignored this as I flicked in on and opened up my beer bottle and took a sip.

I had a lot to think about. The Audley Boys were getting reckless. Which was dangerous. I'd win if they fought fair but if they were going to try and trick me I was going to have to watch out. I wondered if Ace was having any issues with them.

"The fire extinguisher is beneath the sink," I said loudly to the girl in the kitchen. I tried to push the thoughts of the earlier fight from my brain.

"Ha. Ha." Her voice was dry and I smirked. "Very funny."

--

"_Quiet_," Brick hissed at Boomer.

We were crouched in a back alleyway behind a small jewelry store. The rain was only a light drizzle now but it was enough to keep most people inside. Which was a good thing. That meant less people were out to hear my blond brother trip over trashcans.

"Sorry," He griped. "It's dark, I didn't see it."

I rolled my eyes from where I was picking the padlock. I'd already cut the wire that ran to the alarm from the small power box on the wall. I shifted the pick slightly, my gloved hands holding the lock, until I heard a distinct click. With a smirk I yanked, causing the lock to open and the chain to fall from around the door handle.

"We're in," Brick said, coming from behind me to enter the store first. I followed behind him, looking around the dark building and shifting to allow my other brother room to get in as well. Cloaked in darkness, the three of us stilled and waited.

"So…are we just going to grope around for the jewels?" Boomer finally asked. Brick cursed at him but we both knew it was a good question. We couldn't see a goddamn thing.

"They're supposed to have a flood light on," Brick said, annoyed. "It's like, a requirement or something."

"Well," Boomer sighed. "I, for one, think they deserve to get robbed if they don't follow city codes. I mean, honestly, this way they can file for insurance and afford a flood light. They owe us. The fire marshal wouldn't have been happy."

"Guys," I muttered, feeling my way around. "I don't think they are missing their flood light, I think they lost power. The light I'm touching now is real cold and they've only been closed a few hours. Industrial lights stay hot for a long time."

"The storm must've knocked their power out," Brick said, his tone elated.

We all knew what no power meant.

No security cameras.

I sighed and tugged off the black ski mast I'd been wearing. No matter how many times I'd donned one of those things, the rough material against my nose was still annoying. Even if it did make it impossible to recognize me on camera footage, I hated them.

"I found the diamonds," Brick called from somewhere in the darkness behind me.

"I found the…um…jewelry," Boomer said, from somewhere to my left.

"I got the cash register," I said as I worked the draw open.

I grabbed the cash inside by the handful, shoving it carefully into the sack I'd carried in. It was dark so I made sure to grab all I could, feeling around to see if I'd left any behind. The sack was barely heavy.

"They don't have too much money in the register," I said, frowning.

"I guess a jewelry store in this part of town has trouble staying afloat," Brick said from somewhere else. I heard the scrape of a blade against glass and knew he was breaking into a case for more jewels. "This one is probably struggling to stay open."

My frown deepened.

'_You're my hero,'_ Bubbles' voice replayed through my head. I remembered her eyes, so wide and blue and trusting. I remembered how she'd looked at me as if I was such a great guy. As if I was upstanding or honorable.

She'd looked at me like she'd looked at her fiancée. With admiration. With appreciation.

_As if she liked me._

How would she react if she could see me now?

"The bank pays them back for all we steal, right?" I asked, my tone carefully void.

"If they have the right insurance company," Brick replied.

"I got all I can grab," Boomer said. "Let's go."

"Yeah," Brick sighed. "I'm good too. Butch, you ready?"

_Hero…_

Right.

I was no hero.

I was just a fuck up who barely got by. I lived to steal and fight and piss people off. I stole from stores who were struggling more then me. I fought people who I knew couldn't win. And I did things that I knew would drive others away.

God, what would she say if she saw me now? Cloaked in darkness and taking anything I wished. It was sick but it was natural to me. This was what I was used to. Not tennis or lavish parties. This was what I was raised around. This was what I did.

_This is who I am._

"Butch?" Brick asked, somehow nearer to me then before.

"Yeah," I said plainly. "I got the cash."

I tied the bag up and threw it over my shoulder. I felt my way around until I found the back door. I kicked it open, using my free hand to pull my mask back into place. The cold, wet air met me as I held open the door.

"Come on," I urged my brothers. They filed out, sacks full and smiles undoubtedly lighting their faces beneath their masks. I moved out of the way and let the door fall shut, it clicked behind me.

"Let's bring it to Ace," Brick suggested. "He knows where to keep stuff so that the cops don't ever find it."

We weren't too worried about cops pinning us to this heist, but it was always better not to have the loot stored at your place.

Together we ran deeper into the city, our shoes padding softly as we weaved through alleys and around buildings. Night was our friend and kept us invisible. The rain dampened the roads but couldn't damper the moods of my two brothers.

When we were far enough away we took off our masks and gloves and tossed them inside the sacks.

"Screw getting a job," Boomer laughed, his blond hair an unkempt mess around him. "I'll be living well for a while now."

"You're getting a job," Brick said harshly. "And none of us can spend too much for a while. Keep a low profile and act as if nothing ever happened. It'll look suspicious if we're suddenly loaded with cash."

I didn't pay too much mind to him. I'd heard it all before. It was the same routine with every job we did. Nothing ever changed. We always stole, we rarely got caught, I pretended to barely get by, and everything was okay. It's how it always was. Nothing changed in the life of a criminal. Nothing at all.

.

"Maybe Butch can find a diamond bigger then the one on his girlfriend's finger," Boomer said, snapping me from my train of morbid thoughts. "She might leave her fiancée if you have a better offer, Butch."

I pushed him roughly.

"She's not some kind of gold digger," I said plainly, but anger tinted my tone.

"I know," Boomer laughed. "I'm just saying, if she's marrying the dude for money all you have to do is prove you can give her more then him. Girls get like putty if they think a man can provide for them."

I didn't _think_ I could provide for her, I _knew_ I could provide for her. And besides, I didn't want her like that. I looked after her, and that was that. If it ever escalated she'd be a quick screw and that was all.

And besides, I had a sick feeling that money wasn't why she was marrying _Andrew._ She wasn't the type to be that petty. She loved him or something like that.

But whatever.

It wasn't my business.

I didn't care.

She was rich and spoiled and completely incompetent. She wasn't my type. I wasn't her type. It was simple. She went with dorky, clumsy, socially awkward men. I went with fast, experienced women. She owned silky blue dresses that clung to her like a lover should. I owned a ski mask and a handgun.

And all of that didn't matter because things like that don't change.

I was born a thief. I was born a fighter.

I was born to be overlooked by girls like her.

I was no hero.

--

"The Audley Boys are pissed," Ace said as we lounged in his living room. He'd already sent Snake off to store our loot somewhere safe. We'd filled our pockets with enough cash but we'd have to come back for the rest later.

"We can thank Butch for that," Boomer smirked at me.

"They didn't just go after Butch," Ace rubbed the bridge of his nose under his shades. "They cornered Big Billy and Lil' Arturo."

"Anyone get hurt?" Brick asked, rubbing his five-o'clock shadow. He'd shaved since he gotten out of jail. And got his hair cut. Which was good, he looked like hell before.

"Not really," Ace shrugged. "Lil' Arturo got stabbed in the arm but it won't stop him for long."

"They're really trying to get us out," Boomer said, fiddling with a diamond that he'd kept. God knows why.

"They want to run this place," Ace agreed. "I've already got both the docks and the Westside following my orders. The people there didn't object too much and since I don't make them pay me for everything they do I doubt they'll try throwing me out."

"We're stronger than the Audley Boys anyway," Brick confirmed. "If you have the people living near the docks answering to you _and_ the people over in the Westside, we've already doubled the loyalty they have. And my brothers and I run our neighborhood. No one would risk getting a blue skull on their face from our block."

"But we've still underestimated them," Ace sighed, seeming much older then he really was. "They know we run most of the city and they've always grudgingly accepted the strip of buildings on 14th Street as their own before…but now their adamant about taking everything."

"That's true," Boomer balanced the diamond on the tip of his nose. "I've never even thought of the Audley Boys as a threat. Where did they come from all the sudden?"

"Well, I've looked into it," Ace leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose so that his dark eyes could meet us all. "It seems the Audley Boys have taken up camaraderie with some big time dealers."

"Shit," Brick groaned, shoving his hands into his rusty hair in annoyance. "So if they're dealing drugs now, they're going to need more territory to spread out into."

"And we've got all the territory," I continued.

"And we're not going to give it back," Boomer smirked.

"And the big time dealers aren't going to be happy if the Audley Boys can't sell their share of the shipments," Ace finished. "Which leads to the desperation we've been witnessing. They can make big money off this stuff and they know it. They also know if they fall through, there are consequences."

"So basically, if they don't overthrow us, they're dead," Brick shook his head. "Man, this won't be pretty. Men do stupid things when their lives hang in the balance. We need to be prepared so some desperate shit thrown our way."

"I'm ahead of you on that," Ace smirked.

He stood up from his couch. Though his house was smaller and slightly broken down from the outside, inside the furniture reflected his position in the city. His chairs were all leather, his tables an expensive wood, and I knew for a fact his sister's room had all the works. He knew, however, that no one would break in. People were desperate, but not stupid enough to rob Ace.

"I've already told Butch this," He continued, nodding towards me. "But you were in the pin Brick, so I'll fill you in. I've-"

"What about me?" Boomer seemed put-off. "Why didn't anyone think to inform me about whatever we're talking about?"

"I'm informing you now," Ace smiled slickly and Boomer was hardly appeased but quieted anyway.

"As I was saying: I've started dealing with this man from Atlanta who smuggles weapons from artillery factories and other places that I'm not exactly supposed to question him about," Ace smirked. "We've made some deals and I've got a few different forms of ammunition if you three want your pick."

"How much do we owe him for it?" Brick asked, watching as Ace lifted up the surface the coffee table to reveal a shit load of guns. All three of us leaned in unconsciously, gazing at the different kinds. There were a few revolvers, about six rifles, a shotgun, some guns that were definitely not allowed to normal civilians, and packs upon packs of ammunition.

"Man, you better be careful with Jazz around," Boomer frowned. "She could find this and hurt herself."

Ace shook his head. "She's a smart kid. She knows not to touch my stuff and she'd never play with guns. Besides, she won't be lifting up any coffee table tops to see if there's a secret storage space. I think we're safe."

"How much do we owe this man?" Brick repeated, his eyes glued to the guns.

"Not too much," Ace shrugged. "I'll get it out of the loot you got tonight to pay for what you take. I'll set a meeting up so that you can meet him too, in case you want some of your own deals. I've already ordered some silencers and about two machine guns. He says he'll try to get them by next Wednesday."

"Sounds good," Brick nodded. "I'll ask him the rest of my questions and see what he has to offer."

We were silent for a moment, contemplating.

"…So can I get a gun?" Boomer finally asked.

"Yeah man," Ace laughed. "Take your pick."

Boomer rubbed his hands together in excitement. "Wow, a robbery and a new gun all in one day…it's like Christmas."

--

"Is my limp noticeable?" Bubbles asked as I was turned, locking my apartment door.

I looked to where she had just walked out of her own apartment. She was frowning down at her ankle as if it could sense her displeasure and her blonde hair was braided messily down her back. Her diner uniform was slightly wrinkled and her hands rested on her hips.

"Walk and I'll tell you," I ordered, shoving my key into my pocket and leaning back against my door.

She took a few steps, her face calm and unflinching. No signs of pain. Her gait seemed normal, if not slightly less bouncy, and I could barely notice the way she gingerly stepped on her bad ankle.

"It's better," I confirmed indifferently.

"Good," She sighed. "Work was no fun when I had to limp everywhere. I swear my boss contemplated firing me but Victor forbade it. I swear that cook thinks I'm his daughter. And some costumers got really rude too. Something about it taking longer for me to deliver the food than it did for Victor to cook it."

"Fuck 'em," I shrugged and she smiled at me.

"What're you doing today?" She asked, shutting her door and locking it as well.

"Work," I said. "Then probably the bar later with Ace and my brothers. Maybe the Gang Greene Gang too." We had a meeting with that weapons guy from Atlanta that I needed to be present for.

"Is that his gang?" Bubbles seemed almost shocked. I was surprised she'd even heard of them. "People talk about them at the diner. They talk about you and your brothers too."

"What do they say?" I sneered. People talked entirely too much.

"Well," She frowned as we descended the steps. "They mostly talk about how they remember when you guys were younger and how they can't believe you all have taken over so fast. Sometimes they talk about fights you guys have been in. It's like you're a celebrity boxer or something. Everyone seems really up to date with gang activity around here."

"It's important to know what's going on around you," I shrugged. I'd never really considered my brothers and me a gang (we were more like a family of fuckups) but I guess it could be perceived like that. After all, what was that saying? You can tell a lot about a person by who they associate with…or something like that.

"I guess," She nodded.

I waited for the surge of questions. The accusations. The threats of calling the cops. After all, I hadn't denied being in a gang. And not just any gang. The gang that was obviously calling all the shots. People were usually asking question after question about stuff like that.

…but nothing came.

She just walked beside me, her arms hugging herself against the cool air and her teeth chewing her bottom lip.

Huh.

"So what time do you get off of work?" I asked, trying to appear as if I was just asking to make conversation. I knew, however, that she could see right through me. I mean, really, when did I ever feel the need to make conversation?

"Oh," She laughed. "I actually have to meet Andy and his parents for dinner tonight, so you don't have to walk me home. I'm going to change in the bathroom at the diner and call a cab to pick me up."

I fought the urge to deny her frivolous comment about walking her home. Although I quite obviously waited for her and went out of my way to meet her after work, I still didn't want to admit that I was doing something that could be considered sweet. It was a stupid habit and impulse that I knew could be mistaken for caring. I didn't want her to get the impression I liked her or anything. I was just watching out for her.

After the fight the other day, she should be grateful someone was looking after her.

I didn't want her to think of it as endearing or anything.

"You're going to dinner with Andy and his parents?" I asked in a deadly calm voice.

"Yeah," She laughed. "Dinners with them are never dull."

I got the mental picture of exactly what their dinners must be like. Candle light, servants, four course meal, lavish furniture, small talk, wholesome teasing…gag me.

"Fun," I said dryly.

I hated this topic and usually avoided it.

"Fun is not the word," She said, her smile faltering a bit. Her eyes got slightly solemn. "I don't think his mother likes me very much."

I frowned. Why would she care? If she loved the guy, his mother's opinions wouldn't matter. The old prude was probably just bitter about a woman trying to take away her son. But still, Bubbles seemed like the type of girl moms would fight each other to get as a daughter-in-law.

"How do you know she doesn't like you?" I asked. I was, despite my better judgment, interested. Trouble in paradise, it would seem.

"Well, she's told me so. Not directly, but I'm not too dumb to miss the meaning of all the little comments she throws at me," Bubbles held herself a bit tighter. "I've been raised just like her but somehow that's not enough. She acts all cordial like she's supposed to but sometimes I can practically feel the heat from her glares. It's like she thinks I'm going to ruin her son or something."

'_Stupid hag,'_ I thought bitterly.

"But I'm just going to ignore it," Bubbles continued, her voice growing determined. "She has to get over her little grudge against me sometime. And I'm going to be at all the same parties and holidays as her, so it's not like she can avoid getting to know me forever. She'll cave in sometime. I'll wear her down."

I smirked.

But the sad truth was, if the bitch didn't like Bubbles now, she probably never would.

Her mistake though.

"It's stupid," I heard Bubbles whisper from beside me. "But I think she thinks I'm going to be a horrible wife or something of that sort. She thinks that me moving to the city is a foreshadowing of me running out on her son…and she hates me already for something I haven't even done yet. For something that I don't even plan on doing."

I said nothing.

It seemed to me that the blonde_ was_ running from something. That lifestyle, her overbearing peers, the pressure of having to be perfect, the lack of freedom…I don't know. _Something_.

But whatever she was running away from, I found it odd that she ran to the city to escape it. Wasn't that what her fiancée was for? I thought you ran _to_ the people you love, not _from_ them.

And if she needed a break, a distance from her old life, did that mean she needed a break and was running from her fiancée as well?

I sighed, running a hand through my unruly hair. "Quit it." I muttered to myself.

I mean, why did I even bother thinking about it? Whatever mess this girl got into with her life back by the country club and gated houses was her business. It wasn't my responsibility to get her out of messes with her future mother-in-law or anything like that. It wasn't my business and I didn't see her making it my business anytime soon.

"Sorry," She said, startling me from my thoughts. "I don't mean to complain, it's just…on my mind, you know?"

I was silent and we walked for a short distance with no words.

"If it's any consolation," I found myself saying for a reason I wasn't sure of. "My mother would have loved you."

She looked up at me, her eyes blue and her mouth smiling.

And in that instant I found myself understanding why I was so determined on watching over her. I began to let myself realize why I cared.

After all, wasn't it _so_ _obvious_?

She's young, and gorgeous, and mellow, and _there_. And she'd worn me down in the very way I'd always avoided. She'd gotten me to cave so subtly that I hadn't even wanted to recognize it was happening.

But it had happened regardless.

Regardless of my cold words and cruel nature, she'd stuck around me.

Regardless of the danger and threat I emitted, she'd never been scared away.

Regardless of the fact that I'd never let anyone close enough to even scrape the surface of me, she'd somehow dived right into everything I was.

I didn't know what it all meant. I don't think I was supposed to know.

But what I did know was that she was mine. Somehow, in some way, she'd become mine. She was mine to look after, mine to protect, mine to appease, mine to want, and mine to take. And ultimately, if I so chose, mine to keep.

I smirked with the revelation, looking her over from the corner of my eye.

After all, I always took good care of what was mine.

--

"Butch," Mrs. Anderson called to me as I walked up the steps to the building. Mrs. Botstein was watching me coldly from her spot on the stoop. She hadn't said a word to me since the day I'd seen her smack Bubbles and I wasn't too upset about it.

"Yeah?" I asked the other tenant. She was holding her youngest baby and for once the thing wasn't wailing like a banshee.

"I think there was trouble in your apartment," She said, her voice hushed so that Mrs. Botstein couldn't hear. Not that it mattered but it was the principle I suppose.

"What happened?" I asked stiffly, my mind going over a dozen different scenarios.

"I don't know," She said, bouncing her baby slightly. "I just heard a loud crash from somewhere near your apartment. I listened to see if I could tell what was going on but after that there was only some low murmuring and the sound of muffled bangs. It didn't sound like gun shots so I didn't call the cops. It was more like stuff being thrown around."

"A break in?" I asked, my voice tight.

_The Audley Boys._

She shrugged. "I stayed in my apartment until it was quiet and then I rushed down here to see if I could find our landlord but he was gone today. I told that sweet girl, Bubbles, to wait for you and tell you what happened but when she heard the story she rushed upstairs to check it out."

_Shit._

"She's upstairs now?" I asked, stress leaking into my tone.

"Yes, she-"

I ran off before the woman could finish. I took the steps two at a time until I reached my floor. I took long strides down the landing to reach my apartment but when I got there my door was shut and untouched. But the state of my door wasn't what caught my attention or made me pause.

Bubble's door…

"It's pretty bad, huh?" Bubbles walked from her apartment and smiled sadly at me. There was no need to open or shut the door seeing as it was snapped in half and pushed in to allow easy access.

"Did they steal anything?" I pushed past her and walked into the apartment after briefly glancing over her to make sure she was alright.

Stuff was everywhere. Clothes were thrown about, chairs were overturned, cabinets emptied out onto the floor. The couch had been sliced open and torn apart. Anything that was glass was broken. The fridge had been cleaned out.

And the worst part of it was that everything had been spray painted blue.

"No, nothing was stolen, but what's the point? It's all useless now anyway. Oh, and I'm thinking this is the Audley Boys' handiwork, don't you think?" Bubbles' voice asked calmly from behind me.

I looked around, my blood pressure rising.

It was a message.

A threat.

They were telling me that they weren't afraid of me. They were saying that they wouldn't hesitate to destroy her like they'd destroyed her apartment. They'd marked everything in her apartment, like it was theirs. They'd made it clear that they were serious.

And I felt myself rise to the challenge.

If they thought they could fuck with me, threaten what was mine, and get away with it they were sorely mistaken. I didn't screw around and play mind games. I was going to hurt them for their overconfidence and I was going to enjoy it.

"We can't call the police either, can we?" She asked and I wasn't sure how she expected me to answer over my rage. "You're not exactly on the right side of the law and they know if we call the police you'd get in trouble too."

I tried to control my breathing.

"What I don't get," She continued, oddly calm and collected despite the hysteria around her. "Is why they did this to my apartment and left your apartment alone."

Because they knew this would make me even more pissed off. I don't know how they knew, but they did. And that was enough to tick me off even more.

"Do you mind if I use you phone?" She asked out of nowhere.

"What?" I turned around, pinning her with a look. Anger seeped into my every move.

"I need to call a cab," She explained.

"Why?" I couldn't think of why she'd want to leave now, of all times. Her place was a wreck, did she think a maid service was just going to come and fix it all for her? Did she not understand?

"Butch," She said tiredly. "My apartment is destroyed, I have no money to fix it, I have nowhere to stay, and I can't call the cops for help. I'm going to go home to my father, tell him I just couldn't hack it, and hope he doesn't ask too many questions. He might not think too kindly on that whole stolen car incident."

"You're just leaving?" I asked, my voice low and waspish.

Suddenly she looked straight at me and I saw tears gather in the corner of her eyes. She set her jaw with determination and raised her chin, glaring into my eyes.

"What do you suggest I do?" She asked, her calm tone wavering slightly and through my anger a felt a tinge of anxiousness. I willed her not to cry. "I don't want to give up and leave but I see no other choice. Do you think I want to go back? Do you think I want to face all those people who said I wouldn't be able to stake it out? Do you think I want to be even more of a joke?"

I ground my teeth together.

"Stay with me," I said against all my better judgment. I thought, darkly, wasn't I supposed to have some filter from my brain to my mouth?

Teary blue eyes stared at me in question. Her brow was knitted together in confusion and her mouth was turned down in a frown.

"What?" She asked, skeptical.

"You're staying with me," I said slowly, as if that settled it all.

"I couldn't-"

"If you're about to say something about money or inconvenience, don't even try to play that card," I cut her off. "You have a job so you won't be free-loading and I'll fix up your place in the meantime. It'll be temporary."

I had plenty of money from the other night. I could buy her a much better apartment if she'd only ask. I could buy her anything she wanted.

"Butch, I don't-" She shifted.

"I won't let the Audley Boys hurt you," I said.

She seemed to hesitate at that one and I knew I was winning.

"If you stay with me, no one would have to know," I said, throwing in the trump card. "You wouldn't have to go home. No one would think you'd given up."

Her last resolve crumbled. I had her.

"Fine," She said quickly. "But I have no stuff," She said with a disbelieving laugh. She looked around at the wreck that had once been her apartment. "I have nothing."

"I have money," I said simply.

She looked at me, sizing me up. Her blonde hair was down around her shoulders. Her chin was raised, her posture stiff. Unconsciously she picked at the fabric of her white sweater and dark pants that she'd worn to dinner.

"Why would you help me?" She asked finally.

'_Because you're mine_.'

"Because the Audley Boys wouldn't know you existed if I hadn't dragged you into this mess," I said emotionlessly.

"You didn't force me to steal that car," She replied.

"You're right," I agreed, feeling the need to roll my eyes but refraining. "You see, it's really because you made me dinner the other night. I've been trying to figure out how to repay you ever since."

"Ha ha," She smiled despite her attempt at sounding sarcastic. "Just admit it, Butch. You're my friend. Despite every attempt of pushing me away, you've somehow come to think of me of your best buddy, right?"

She smiled teasingly at me, surrounded by ciaos and blue.

I winked at her, a smirk playing across my carefully blank face. "Partners in crime, right?"

_--_

_So open your eyes, child,  
Let's be on our way.  
Broken windows and ashes  
Are guiding the way._

Keep quiet no longer,  
We'll sing through the day,  
Of the lives that we've lost,  
And the lives we've reclaimed

--

…**.Don't kill me!! I tried, right? That's all I can do. I just hope this was okay. **

**Butch finally understands that he likes her. He's not accustomed to such feelings which is why he wasn't sure how to explain or comprehend them…but they're there. And that's a step.**

**Please, tell me what you think. No flames please, try to keep it nice and constructive.**


	12. Nine Crimes

_Leave me out with the waste,  
This is not what I do.  
It's the wrong kind of place,  
To be thinking of you._

--

"Betty!" A voice called, muffled by darkness. "_Betty_. Wakeup!"

With a small gasp I jerked awake. I was tangled and twisted in a thin sheet. My hair was in disarray around my face. Each breath I took made my body heave and my lungs ached for air. My skin, covered in a thin layer of sweat, felt cold. Across my mind images of violence flashed vividly. I watched them replay with horror.

"Come on," The voice urged again. I felt something shift near me in the darkness. "Calm down. It's okay."

"Butch?" I asked, my voice a mere whimper.

Two strong hands clasped my shoulders and drew me into a sitting position. I swallowed thickly and leaned towards the warm body, letting Butch's arms come to circle by back. My hands, slightly shaky with adrenaline and alarm, reached out and embedded themselves in his shirt.

"It was just a nightmare," He breathed somewhere near my ear. "You can calm down now."

I laughed a little against his chest but didn't draw back. Or calm down. The images from my dream were still jarring in my mind and sent shivers down my spine. My breath caught in my throat as frightened tears pooled in my eyes. I burrowed further against him.

"I didn't mean to wake you," I whispered once I was sure my voice wouldn't shake too badly. I felt hot trails of tears against my cheeks and I closed my eyes against the moisture.

"Come on, crying over a nightmare is stupid. It wasn't real, so there's no point in getting all upset over it," He said tonelessly. His hands began to rub unconscious circles against my back. I realized my tears must have alarmed him and I tried to make them stop. For his sake.

He obviously wasn't used to crying girls.

"I'm sorry," I laughed sadly, my forehead against his collarbone and my nose pressed against the hard plane of his chest. I sniffed. "Really, I am."

I drew back from him and brought my hands to my face. I made quick to wipe away all evidence of tears even though we both knew they had fallen. Besides, the damp marks on his shirt were proof enough. But at least they had stopped.

"I'm sorry," I said again, forcing amusement into my tone. "I really must be annoying you. You shouldn't have to put up with this."

Through the darkness I could hear him breathe, calm and steady. My own breath was still offbeat along with the beating of my heart.

Butch was silent for a moment before he sighed. Without preamble his arms circled me again and drew me into his lap. I squealed, surprised and pliant as I was dragged back against him. His face was somewhere near mine (I could feel his breath against my cheek) and his grip on my waist was hardly comfortable.

"Um, Butch?" I mumbled to the shadows that I knew were him. My hands awkwardly fiddled with the fabric of my pants and I sat stiff.

"I won't let them hurt you," He said, his breath warm and smelling of mint toothpaste.

"What are you talking about?" I laughed nervously. All hazy aspects of fear from my nightmare were banished by our new position. I tried in vain to figure out what had happened to land me in his lap, but I couldn't. So I merely shifted against his steel-like grip in an attempt to get comfortable.

"You're nightmare," He explained, his voice rough. "It was about the Audley Boys, wasn't it? I heard you screaming. You kept yelling for them to go away. You had a nightmare they came back, didn't you?"

I bit my lip and turned my face away. Images of my dream flashed unbidden across my mind. Blood. Pain. Death. _His_. All his. His blood. His pain. His death. I grimaced at the scenes I saw. The feel of Butch's hands against my waist and my body sitting against his legs reminded me that it was all fictitious. It wasn't real.

It was still frightening regardless.

"I dreamed they came back," I confirmed slowly. My eyes watched the shadows in the dark with distrust and my body was still stiff against the warmth around me. "I dreamed they weren't through with what they started…and they were angry. I dreamed…that they killed you. And I couldn't stop them."

It was silent. My words hung in the air. I instantly wished I'd kept quiet. It was just a dream, after all. No matter how vivid it was, it wasn't real. I shouldn't have told him what it was about. I felt foolish.

"That won't happen," He said finally. His grip shifted to my shoulders and he pushed me back slightly. I was now forced to look at him and I tried to make out his features in the dark. I knew the calm look he was undoubtedly sporting would put me at ease. Unfortunately all I could see was shadows.

"How do you know?" I asked, doubtful and slightly ashamed to show it. "How can you be sure they won't try to get us here?"

"Just stop worrying," He said, not answering my question.

He removed me from his lap, sliding me back onto the pullout couch. I felt my body being pushed back against the thin mattress and I complied, suddenly too tired to object. Once Butch stood up I grabbed for the sheet and tugged it back around me. I listened to him move back to the makeshift bed he had on the floor.

It had been three days since the Audley Boys trashed my apartment. I'd chosen to take Butch up on his offer and stay with him. It was one of those choices I make and constantly wonder if I'm going to regret it later. I was worried at first about things such as the fact that he only had one bed. You know, seeing as there were obviously two of us.

It seemed I needn't have to be too concerned with it, though. The first night Butch didn't even stay there. He went off until all hours of the night. And the rest of the days he simply crashed on the floor. I, of course, begged him not to. It was his house, he should get the bed. But he simply said I was talking too much and that was the end of that battle.

It was odd, being with another person again. Living with Butch was nothing like living with my family. But it was strangely comfortable. He wasn't the type to bother you too much and besides his random bad moods we basically got along. And he was actually pretty helpful, not that I'd ever tell him so.

I mean, come on, not just anyone tries to make you calm down after nightmares. He didn't know it, but that stunt just won him tons of "secretly sweet" points.

And so I didn't regret my decision. I found, oddly enough, that I was quite happy with the impromptu setup we had. His apartment was bare but livable and his company was quiet but nice to have.

"Goodnight Butch," I mumbled to the darkness. I prayed my nightmares would stay away and I could get a decent nights rest. I doubted Butch would be so prone to help me the next time I woke him with my screaming.

"G'night," I heard him slur, sleep thickening his words and within moments I was sure he was asleep.

--

"Grab that corner," Butch instructed from where he stood beside my couch.

I turned to look over at him from where I'd been stacking the broken shards that had once been my plates. My couch was pretty bad-off. It was sprayed a gaudy blue and the fabric was ripped. Springs burst through the openings and the middle slumped slightly from whatever they'd used to bust up my stuff. Probably a baseball bat.

Or a sledgehammer.

I sighed and straightened. I dumped the stack of glass into the trash bag nearest to me before making my way over to him. We'd already cleared a small path around my apartment so it was easier to walk around without bits of glass and various other things littering the way.

It was silly but every time I came in to straighten the place up I'd get a little afraid. It was as if I thought the Audley Boys would come back at any minute to check on their handy work. And then I'd be there…and I hated the fact that they could more then likely hurt me. Badly.

"Okay," I smiled tiredly, bringing my hand up to brush a few sweaty strands of hair away from my face. "Where are we moving it?"

"The street," He explained as he bent down to get a grip his end of the couch. "It's too messed up. We may as well trash it."

I nodded and bent down as well. My hands faltered for a moment before finally finding a holding place. With a deep breath I helped him lift the couch. My back strained and my shirt clung to me as we worked our way through the path and towards the door.

I looked over at him from across the couch. His head was turned to look over his shoulder, seeing as he was the one walking backwards, and a thin sheet of perspiration coated his tanned skin. His hair was messy and pushed haphazardly out of his dark green eyes. The sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt were rolled up and his arm muscles stretched and contracted attractively as he worked.

"Thanks for helping me," I said as we struggled to angle the couch out of the door. "I mean…thanks for fixing my lights, and sink, and moving all the heavy stuff. I know you must be tired."

He somehow managed to shrug while holding a couch and I heard some fabric of the couch rip as we both practically forced it out the door. We obviously weren't fit to be moving large pieces of furniture. When the movers had moved all my furniture in they'd made it look _so_ easy.

"We're both tired," Butch said dispassionately.

Which was true. The only time we could work on fixing my apartment was when we got off from work. And so every night for the past three nights we'd been cleaning up right after we got back. By then we were both exhausted but I refused to complain and, of course, admitting any kind of weakness wasn't Butch's style.

"Yeah," I huffed as we slid out into the hallway. A poor unsuspecting resident had to fling himself against the wall to avoid being smashed by the blue monstrosity we were carrying. "After this we should call it a night. I'm starving."

Butch looked over at me briefly, his face carefully blank. "You haven't ate?" I shook my head and he frowned. "I could order something. Do you like pizza?"

_Who doesn't like pizza?_

I sent him a mistrusting look. "You just don't want me to cook again," I said accusingly. "I'm not going to lie Butch, that's a little insulting."

I made sure to watch my steps and ignore the slight ache my arms were feeling. I could see the trace of a smirk tug at his lips from the view I had of his profile. We were nearing the steps and he couldn't exactly turn to look at me but I'm sure if he could he would have pinned me with an amused glance.

"Sorry if the burned casserole you made last night wasn't my favorite," He replied dryly.

"Um…thanks a lot. But that was soup," I muttered while trying to inconspicuously adjust my grip.

He stopped walking abruptly and sent me a shocked, humored look.

"That was soup?" He asked, his tone laced with amusement and I merely nodded. "It was _solid_."

"Well," I laughed embarrassedly. "I mixed up some of the ingredients. Sue me."

Butch just rolled his eyes as if in disbelief before stepping backwards to get us moving again. I rolled my eyes as well and followed suit. Who was he to complain? He ate it, didn't he? And it wasn't as if I claimed to be a gourmet chef!

"Do you think you can make it down the steps?" Butch asked suddenly and I frowned over his shoulder where the door to the stairwell was propped open. I felt myself wishing that I'd gotten an apartment on a lower floor…or that I could just slide down the stairs on top of the couch. That'd be so much easier.

And way more fun.

"Sure," I said and when he didn't move I made sure to send him an assuring smile. "Come on, let's just get this done."

Butch looked me over, in an obvious attempt to see if I could really make it. Luckily my arms didn't shake and I must've looked positive because soon we were beginning our ascent down the steps. I bit my lip, determined, and worked my way out toward the street.

--

"Pizza was a good choice," I smiled while reaching for another piece. The pizza was greasy and hot and smothered in cheese—just the way I liked it. I'd already had at least five pieces and I was definitely sure I'd eaten more then Butch. "I do believe it's the best food known to man."

Butch said nothing. He just leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared intently at the TV where the news played boringly across the screen. His eyes were dark and focused and his jaw was tensed. The light from the TV illuminated his face.

"Aren't you hungry?" I asked.

He made no hint that he'd heard me.

"Are you tired?" I pushed.

Again he remained completely detached.

"Butch," I sighed in annoyance, before leaning across his couch and poking his cheek. "Just tell me if you want me to shut up. Don't ignore me."

He looked at me from the corner of his eye, pinning me with a harsh look, before looking away again. I huffed and rolled my eyes before leaning back against the cushion and continuing to eat my food. He always did this! He went from decently social (one or two sentences) to absolutely silent at the drop of a hat.

Fickle boy.

After sulking for a moment I figured I might as well get over it. It was a pointless battle anyway. If he wanted to ignore me he was going to ignore me. It was no skin off my nose. Why would I care if I had absolutely no one to talk to?

"Thank you, for letting me stay here," I said in a falsely sweet voice…in truth I was just trying to get some sort of reaction from him.

"Betty," Butch's voice was calm. "Shut up."

"Fine," I muttered. I turned my attention to the television as well, seeing as it was _oh so exciting_. I watched for a short while, pulling my legs up underneath me and getting comfortable. I frowned and tilted my head. "Someone really robbed a jewelry store?"

"What?" Butch was suddenly looking at me. Sure, now he wanted to talk.

"That's what is on the television," I said in amusement. I pointed over at the screen. "They're saying someone broke into a jewelry store on Tenth Street. People were talking about it at work today, too. Supposedly they cleared the whole place out."

"Stuff like that happens all the time," Butch shrugged, turning back towards the TV. I noticed him still watching me on the sly.

"I feel bad for them," I frowned. "I kind of know how they feel. But at least nothing was really stolen from my apartment."

"Just forget about it, they'll be fine," Butch flicked the set off and I watched him with mild curiosity as he stood and began to put it away. Once he was done he turned back and met my gaze. "Are you done with the pizza? I'll throw it out."

"Don't you want any?" I questioned. I had saved him three pieces.

"No, I'm fine," He dismissed me. "Are you done or not?"

"Jeez.," I laughed teasingly. "I thought boys were supposed to eat a lot."

"I'm just not hungry," He said with a clipped tone.

I frowned, slightly concerned. "Is everything okay? Did something happen at work? Or did something on the news upset you?" I tried to pry. My face lit up in realization. "Oh! Do you think the people who broke into my apartment were the same people who robbed the jewelry store? Do you think the Audley Boys did it?"

"Betty," Butch was trying to stop me, but I was on a rampage.

"Oh my god!" I said quickly. "It makes perfect sense! The store was robbed right around the time when my apartment was broken into! They were like, warming up or something! What if-"

"Shut-up! The Audley Boys didn't break into the jewelry store!" Butch yelled suddenly. I froze, the remainder of my sentence lodged in my throat. Butch was still with anger and his eyes were alive with barely kept rage. I just sat, completely unmoving for what seemed like minutes.

"O-oh," I said finally, my manner wounded. "Okay."

Butch's anger visually drained from his body. His shoulders sagged and his eyes looked away from me and focused on a far wall. I watched him wearily; slightly put-off from his angry display and deciding it would be best just to stay quiet.

"Betty," Butch said at last, his tone back to normal and all traces of irritation completely gone. "I didn't mean to yell."

I realized his attempt at an apology and smiled weakly. It wasn't the first time my rambling had made someone snap. It was just the first time I'd seen Butch direct such rage at me and it was honestly a little unnerving. Even when he'd pinned me against the wall the day I'd been stuck in the hallway, he'd never physically yelled at me.

"I just," He sighed and ran his hand awkwardly through his hair. I watched his nervous habit and relaxed a little. "I'm not used to a girl being around so much. Usually when I'm mad I can just let it out…but with you-" He cut himself off and shook his head. "I shouldn't have yelled."

"I should have stopped talking," I said softly, realizing that it was my turn to speak. "I'm sorry if my being here is making you feel awkward."

He laughed at that, finally turning his head to meet my gaze. I smiled at him and he shook his head again.

"Not awkward," He explained. "Just a little stressed."

I was slightly amazed that he was admitting such but I didn't let that show for fear of him realizing his slip. "I stress you out?" I joked instead. My fingers tangled themselves into the baggy cotton of the pants he'd let me borrow to sleep in.

"You have no idea," He walked back over to the couch, obviously calm enough to sit.

"Is it my incessant talking? Because sometimes that even stresses _me_ out!" I laughed. "It's understandable for you to get mad at me for it."

He stretched his arms out to rest on the top of the couch and I shifted forward to avoid the feeling of his arm around my shoulder. It was a typical male way to sit and I was sure he didn't mean for his arm to splay right behind my head.

"I wasn't mad at you for talking," He said simply. "I was mad at something else and I just took it out on you. Yelling was unintentional."

I picked at a loose strand on his threadbare couch and rested my chin on my knee. I was very tired and I found that simple words sounded very pretty if he was saying them. People who had good voices shouldn't be allowed to stop talking.

"You were frustrated with the news, weren't you? Not at me," I tilted my head to regard him.

"You catch on quick," He smirked.

"So you've said," I smiled back.

I felt his arm come down around my shoulders, encasing them with heat as the hard line of his muscles pressed against me. His other hand, large and rough, reached over and lightly brushed away a lock of my hair that had fallen from its tie. It was a move I'd call affectionate if anyone else was doing it. But it wasn't anyone else. It was Butch. So I wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"I'm going to head out now," He said simply. He stood up and I hugged my knees a little tighter against the cool air of the apartment. "I'll lock the door behind me."

I watched him walk away and let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. I wasn't quite sure what to say, my shoulders still felt warm from his skin. But that wasn't exactly the thing to inform him, or anyone, of.

So instead I called gently, "Don't rob any jewelry stores while you're gone."

He paused and looked over his shoulder at me. His expression wasn't shocked, merely resigned. His green eyes bore into my blue ones and I held his gaze steadily.

"When did you figure out it was me who did it?" He asked.

"About the time you quit answering me and wouldn't stop staring at the screen."

"So you knew it was me before I yelled at you?" He asked and I simply nodded. "And all that talking was just an attempt to verify it?"

"I wasn't expecting the yelling—but yes. I figured it was you," I replied. I felt a pang of justice hit my stomach. He was wrong. He robbed that store. He should get in trouble for it!

"Why?" He asked.

I thought for a moment. "I don't know. I just had a feeling it was you. I can't explain it."

He frowned and eyed me warily. Then he turned and headed towards the door, grabbing his key and worn leather jacket as he left. I sat still and watched him go. I heard the door shut and heard the familiar click of the lock turning as he secured me inside.

I sighed and stood up. I had to pull out the bed and get some sleep if I was going to be any use at all at work the next day. Staying up and fretting about boys who robbed banks and helped fix up apartments wouldn't be logical. I liked the bliss of not thinking about such things.

--

"Bubbles," Vick's voice was thick with amusement. "What are you doing?"

I looked up from my catalogue to smile at him. His apron was messy from the day's work and his face was still flushed from the heat of the kitchen. His course beard was slightly graying and peaking out from beneath the gap of his beard and mustache was a small, tired smile.

"I'm shopping for a new bedspread," I explained from my hunched over position in a booth. We'd closed down about a half-hour ago but I still hadn't left yet. "And some new clothes…and towels…and….everything else I guess."

He raised a bushy eyebrow before rubbing the back of his head.

"I don't s'pose you'd care to tell me what's going on," He ventured.

I smiled down the tabletop and ran my finger over the glossy page I'd been looking at. Everything in the catalogue was on sale and marked down a lot so I figured I'd be okay. But after adding up the sum of everything I'd need to repair my apartment, I realized I'd need a lot more money.

"Do you think I could handle a second job?" I asked instead of answering him.

I watched as the older man slid into the seat across from me, my hands fidgeting in my lap. His eyes watched me curiously and I bit my lip. I knew he was waiting on me to elaborate but I wasn't quite sure how. It was all so very complicated.

"You see," I said finally. "My apartment got…ruined—by a flood—and I need to replace everything that got destroyed, but I don't really have the money to."

"A flood?" Vick seemed skeptical and his accent was deep. "I know there was a bad storm the other day—but a flood?"

I blushed and lifted a shoulder in a pseudo shrug. "It wasn't really a flood. The pipe under my sink burst while I was at work. When I got home it had flooded my whole apartment and the apartment underneath me. I luckily got my neighbor to repair the pipe, but everything else is still messed up."

That wasn't exactly a lie. When the Audley Boys broke into my apartment they _did_ burst one of my pipes and it did flood my bathroom floor and the family bellow me's bedroom. And Butch _had_ repaired the pipe the day before (useful, no?) when the landlord, Victor, had threatened to make me pay for the damage downstairs too.

But besides my pipe, the Audley Boys also shredded my bed, smashed all my dishes, frayed all the wires to my electronics, stole the few pieces of jewelry in my jewelry box, and painted almost all my clothes blue. I'd barely been able to salvage one diner uniform, a pair of jeans, and some tennis shoes.

I didn't, however, feel the urge to dish out that information as well.

"I see," Vick nodded. "Well, then the answer to your question is yes. I do believe you could handle a second job."

"Really?" I asked, elated and at the same time slightly apprehensive.

"It won't be easy," He warned.

'_Is anything easy anymore_?' I thought wryly. Out loud I just giggled. "I'm willing to give it a try."

"Who are you staying with in the meantime?" Vick asked. "'Cause I hear there's a shelter down the street that'll take you in until you get it all cleaned up. It's not the bests place, but they'll give ya' a bed and some food. That'd be good."

I flushed at his concern, but shook my head.

"I'm actually staying with a friend," I waved off his worry. "Just until everything is in order."

"Not your fiancée?" He asked, nodding towards my ring.

"No," I laughed nervously. "He actually…"

"Doesn't know?" Vick ventured a guess. When I said nothing he just sighed and rubbed his beard in contemplation. "Secrets are hardly the best foundations for a relationship."

I pouted. I hated when people started talking like fortune cookies or philosophers or…whatever. I had my reasons for not telling Andy about my apartment being ruined. It wasn't as if I enjoyed keeping him in the dark. But honestly, it just had to be done. Really. Like, what would happen if I told him about all my stuff being gone?

That would just lead to him finding out about my apartment being broke into. And that would lead to him finding out about the Audley Boys. From there he'd find out about me stealing a car. And the whole car thing (which had oddly triggered it all) would, undeniably, lead to him rediscovering a certain person named Butch.

And although Andy had already met Butch Sawyer, I don't think Andy had fully grasped the concept of him. After all, who was the one person who had been there through all my secrets? _Butch_. And I don't think Andy would miss that little detail. And once Andy finally got to know Butch (which he would insist upon) I don't think he'd come to like him.

After all, Butch was everything Andy was not.

Andy was calm and patient, where Butch was restless and intolerant.

Andy was sweet and nurturing, where Butch was harsh and self-sufficient.

Andy was everything good and wholesome, where Butch was just about as unwholesome as they come.

And if Andy realized this about Butch he'd demand me to never see him again—which would be pretty hard seeing I was staying with him. And as scandalous as the fact that I was staying with a man other than my fiancée was, I couldn't let that deter me. After all, Andy banning me from anything Butch was involved in would cut off from almost everything I'd become accustomed to in the city.

Butch had oddly woven his way into my life and simply being told to stay away from him wouldn't do. Although Andy would only be looking out for my wellbeing, I was fully capable of doing that on my own. No, telling Andy would just erase everything I'd been trying to accomplish, and I couldn't have that.

"All relationships have secrets," I said to Vick with a small smile and shrug.

"Yes," Vick nodded. "I guess you're right. But sometimes you have to think about where your secrets are leading you."

"I'm sorry…" I mumbled. "I don't understand."

"Are your secrets meant to keep you close to him…or are your secrets driving him away?"

I fought the urge to throw a fit. There he went with the whole psychic babble crap! Honestly, I don't know why people always get philosophical with me about things that _don't matter_. Do they take lessons to perfect it or something?

"Does it matter?" I'm mortified to admit that I snapped at him. And was my tone really as defensive as I think it sounded?

Vick just laughed oddly. "I guess that's what you should be asking, huh? What does matter?"

I smiled brightly and tilted my head, playing up the role of ditzy idiot in a sad attempt to end the conversation. "So you think I can handle a second job?" I repeated, my smile still wide and bright and completely fake.

I was done talking or even thinking about Andy, Butch, the Audley Boys, and secrets.

Because, well, telling Andy about everything in my life was simply out of the question. I had my secrets and I knew they weren't good. But they were _mine_. And every girl is entitled to her own secrets.

--

I groaned and stretched against the thin mattress, burying my head into the pillow and trying to block out the light. I liked this pillow, mostly because it smelled good. Like soap and musk. I breathed deep and tried to force myself back into sleep.

It's a strange feeling, waking up in a new place. There's always that incoherent moment when you first wake up where you aren't sure where you are. But the feeling only lasted a few short moments this time and then the panic subsided and sleep eased away from my brain.

I knew exactly where I was.

I peaked out from the pillow and looked around Butch's apartment. It was still dark outside, seeing as I'd woken up early for work, and only a small lamp illuminated the room. It wasn't too messy, only a pack of cigarettes and a pair of jeans littered the floor, and my eyes found nothing of interest in the bare apartment.

I heard Butch moving around in the kitchen. He must've already woken up to get ready for work. From where I laid I could smell the warm soap on him. I reached up to push my hair into some sort of order but it was dirty and ratty and I groaned again in disgust.

"Shower," I muttered tiredly, pushing all other thoughts from my mind. It was too early to deal with strange boys. With great effort I pushed my tired limbs up and raised myself off the bed. It was slightly chilly in the apartment and I dreaded the thought of leaving the heat of the sheets.

I padded over to the bathroom, the tiled floor inside was cold against my bare feet. It was a practically empty bathroom, like the rest of his apartment, and I realized how easy it would be for Butch to just pack up and leave. He owned very little.

Once stripped of my borrowed clothes (basketball shorts and a black t-shirt) I turned on the faucet. I pushed down the plug, deciding to take a bath instead. The hot water had actually been working the past week and I loved soaking in baths. I hadn't been able to since I'd left home.

I was grimy from trudging around my apartment the previous day in order to look for anything that had survived the break-in. Not much had made it through. Almost everything was horribly demolished and I was thankful that I'd kept my money in my bank account or wallet.

"I can't believe someone broke into my apartment," I said bitterly as I stepped into the tub. "No, not someone. A _gang_."

It was still scary if I thought about it, even after a few days, and I tried not to dwell on it too much. But still I couldn't help the occasional bout of fear. I knew I'd brought this all on myself, in truth. I'd moved into the slums, stole their car, hung out with the Audley Boys' obvious rivals, and watched them get beaten to bits.

So what did I expect? For them to send me flowers? Ha! I had placed myself in a dangerous situation and I knew it.

Which is why I had to stay with Butch. It was all my own stupidity that had caused this, so it was my responsibility to get myself out. Going to live back home wasn't an option. I wasn't going to leave with my tail tucked between my legs.

'_And…_' A voice whispered in my head. '_Who better to stay with while in the midst of danger than a man like Butch_?'

I pouted, ignoring the voice even though I knew it was true. If I was going to stay and stick it out in the city, there wasn't really a better place for me. Mrs. Aderson would have let me stay with her, I'm sure, but I'd be putting her in danger in the event that the Audley boys ever decided to come and find me. Butch, however, already knew about the Audley Boys, wasn't afraid of them, and knew how to handle them.

And the fact that they had avoided his apartment to begin with spoke volumes. Despite the gang's bravado, they were obviously wary of Butch and weren't about to ransack his place. It was wrong, but why not use him as my own security system? I didn't mind his company and he'd offered. Besides, was there any other way?

It was a messed up situation, but somehow I knew I had made a decent choice. It might not be the smartest choice, but it wasn't unreasonable.

I bit my lip, and tried to distract myself from my thoughts. I took a breath and slid beneath the water, the porcelain smooth against my back and my eyes shut tight. I stayed beneath the surface for a moment, breathing out bubbles. With a gasp I sat up, my hair heavy with water.

I listened quietly and could make out the muffled sounds of Butch moving around on the other side of the door. I grabbed the bar of soap off the side of the tub. At a leisurely pace I lathered my arms, watching dirt and flecks of dried blue paint fall from my skin. I loved being clean.

I took my time washing up, staying in the tub until the water turned cool. Once done I pulled up the plug and watched the water swirl out. The towels were folded nearby and I grabbed one and dried off the best I could. I always felt better after a bath.

My uniform was already laid out neatly on the sink. I'd had to wash it everyday, seeing as I only had one left. It was annoying but I usually brought down Butch's dirty clothes too, just so I wasn't wasting too much water. The day before, however, Butch and I had gotten into a small tiff. So I'd only brought my stuff down to the Laundromat. It was petty, but I didn't care. I wasn't going to wash his stuff if I was upset with him.

I pulled on my scratchy uniform and turned towards the mirror. My face was rosy from the warm water and my hair was darkened. I braided the wet mass back into a bun, just to have it off my neck. My blue eyes looked tired and my full lips were frowning softly.

I looked pretty bad.

But what did I expect? Besides, who cared? I wasn't trying to impress anyone.

"Hey Butch?" I called as I walked out of the bathroom.

He didn't reply, he just kept messing with something on the stove. I thought I smelt eggs and I grinned. Go me! I actually gave him some incentive for home cooked meals. Granted, he was trying to cook it as fast as he could so that I couldn't help…but still!

"Good morning!" I said amiably as I came up beside him. I was determined to be in a good mood and pretend out little fight last night hadn't happened. I grabbed a clean glass from the sink and turned the tap on so that I could get some water. "You sleep well?"

"Sure," He muttered, fully concentrated on the egg in the pan. Or…the two eggs in the pan.

"Are one of those for me?" I asked teasingly. I nudged him gently before walking around him and looking in the fridge. It was slightly full, but mostly with leftovers and dinner stuff. I didn't get much breakfast stuff at the store, mostly because I still didn't know how to cook many breakfast meals.

"Both of them are for you," He said from behind me. I straightened up and looked over my shoulder, the fridge still open and cold against my front.

"Really?" I mumbled.

He didn't reply, only tilted the pan so that the eggs slid onto a plate nearby. I watched him place the pan in the sink, turn the water on, and begin washing it. I smiled, realizing what he was doing and feeling giddy.

"Apology accepted," I laughed. I grabbed the plate and a fork and pulled myself up onto the counter to sit.

"I'm not apologizing," He said briskly, his eyes glaring over at me.

"Sure," I nodded. _Yeah right_…

"Just shut up and eat," He scoffed, still scrubbing at the pan. His black hair fell forward and covered his eyes and I watched his jaw tense with frustration. Seriously, he was pretty cute when he was mad.

I blushed, rolling my eyes at my adolescent thought.

"So, about our argument," I began after taking a bite of the eggs. They were good.

"I said no and I'm still going to say no," He said peevishly.

"You can't tell me not to get a second job, Butch," I said, my own ire rising back up. It was like déjà vu. This was exactly how the argument went yesterday. Only yesterday I threw a pillow at his head and he stormed out.

"You're dead on your feet by the end of the night as it is," He snapped, stepping towards me and I glared up at him from my sitting position on the countertop. "Two jobs would be too much."

"That's my choice to make," I defended. Honestly, I hadn't been too mad at him when I'd woken up, but this was too much. He couldn't tell me to get a job or not. Friends are supposed to be supportive! "If I want a second job I can get a second job."

"I have a job and you have a job," He reasoned. "Do you need any more money?"

"I don't want you paying for my repairs," I sighed. "Helping is one thing, paying is another. I want to help you pay rent and help pay for the repairs on my own. To do that I'll need another job. That's just how it is."

"The repairs are going fine and you have enough money for rent," He said, his green eyes watching me.

"But I don't have enough to get entirely new stuff," I mumbled. "I have to replace everything they broke, and after I pay for my rent, half of your rent, and repairs I won't have enough money for new clothes. Or new plates. Or anything else."

"Okay then," He ran his hand through his hair. "You aren't going to pay half my rent, first of all. Second of all, I can buy you all that new crap. You don't need to go off and overwork yourself to make ends meet."

I bit my lip. "I won't pay half your rent," I conceded. "But I'm not letting you buy me that stuff. Especially not with the money you got from robbing that store. It's not right and I refuse to live off it."

He frowned. "And if I buy that stuff with the money from my job, will that be alright then?"

"Your paycheck won't cover it," I took a deep breath set my plate aside.

I brought my hands up. With careful movements I placed them on either side of his face, his skin warm and his jaw hard against my palms. He watched me warily.

"I'm getting a second job." I said softly.

Butch raised an eyebrow, amused. His hands came up and gripped my wrists. He moved my hands away and let them drop back into my lap.

"No," He said, amused. "You're not."

"Ugh! Butch!" I groaned. He was so insufferable. "You can't tell me what to do!"

He turned and began walking away, an amused smirk on his lips. I jumped down off the counter and followed close behind. I gripped the sleeve of his uniform and tugged angrily. He looked at me over his shoulder and I glowered up at him.

"I'm going to get another job," I said, just to irk him.

"Borrow the nicest thing Mrs. Anderson has to wear and change into it when you get home," Butch ordered. I frowned, confused by the random conversation change. "Try and make yourself look decent, you probably don't want people asking questions."

"Questions? Dress nice? Butch, what in the world are you going on about?" I crossed my arms over my chest and watched him slip into his work shoes. He looked over at me, his smirk still in place. "Well?" I urged. If he thought this ended the fight he was—

"Just do it," He demanded. "I'm going to borrow Ace's car. We're going to your old house and getting some of your old crap. That way you won't have to buy anything."

I froze, startled. Go back home and get the rest of my stuff? All my other clothes, shoes…I even had a bedspread, lamp, and other things to put in my apartment. I wouldn't have to buy half the things I thought I did if I went back for all of that.

"I don't know, Butch," I mumbled, but we already knew it was going to happen. It was the best option. I wouldn't even have to get a second job if I did this. Why hadn't I thought of it before?

"It'll be fine," He said dismissively. "I'll pick you up here after work. Lock the door while I'm gone."

And with that he was gone. I frowned, contemplating. Mrs. Anderson better have a nice dress or else anyone who saw me would be talking for weeks…and Ace's car better be decent too. And Butch…oh _god_…

I remembered the tennis court incident and groaned.

I just hoped this trip uptown would go better than the last.

--

"Left here," I instructed from where I sat in the passengers seat of Ace's car. Wind whipped against my face and I played nervously with the seatbelt.

Ace did have a nice car. It was a black 1969 DeVille. I'd always loved Cadillac cars and this one was a convertible, so that was a major plus! The interior was red and two-toned and I could tell Ace had put a lot of time into picking out a decent looking car.

"Are you sure it's not stolen?" I asked for what was probably the fiftieth time.

Butch sent me an annoyed look from where he sat behind the wheel. He'd changed into a simple long-sleeved black shirt, his white undershirt showing a little around the collar. It wasn't a button up shirt or anything but it was respectable and clean. His jeans were old, faded, but not too tarnished.

"Sorry," I reprimanded myself. "I'm just a little nervous. I hate lying to my father, but if he asks why I need all this stuff I can't exactly tell him. He'd flip if he found out someone broke into my apartment. So I'm not sure-"

"Just tell him your stuff got burned in a freak-kitchen fire," Butch interrupted me and I glowered over at him in amusement.

"Ha ha," I said dryly. "I'm a good cook, thank you very much. I've improved drastically."

Butch merely smirked.

"So," I sighed, my hands fiddling with the ends of my hair. I'd curled it at Mrs. Anderson's house and it'd remarkably stayed put, even at the speed the convertible was going. "I'll just make a quick lie about a fire—but no one was hurt—and get my stuff. No problem!"

"Quit acting so damn fidgety and they might actually believe you," Butch said plainly.

I clasped my hands in my lap.

"But what if he doesn't believe me?" I asked. "What if he doesn't let me go back? Or won't let me take my old stuff? Or what if he doesn't like you and thinks—?"

"He's your father, even if he doesn't believe you he'll still be nice, right?" Butch asked and I nodded softly. "So he'll let you get your stuff. And who cares if he likes _me_ or not?"

"_I _care," I mumbled, looking at him in shock. "Butch, you're my friend and he's my father. I want him to like you. "

Butch rolled his eyes and remained silent. I watched him for a moment as he drove but eventually turned to look out the window. I was worried about him meeting my father and that didn't do much to ease the fears. But if he wasn't in the mood to be polite, then I wasn't sure how to convince him otherwise.

"I'll try to behave, will that make you feel better?" He said finally, his voice blank.

I looked over at him, grinning.

"Yes!" I laughed, reaching over and squeezing the hand he rested on the gearshift. "Thank you so much! I know he'll like you if you don't act rude! Just show him that sensitive side that I know you have deep down, and we'll be alright."

"Sensitive side. _Right_," Butch snorted in amusement. I smiled brightly and rested more comfortably against the seat.

"Thank you so much, Butch. For everything," I sighed happily. "I couldn't have done this without you."

He looked over at me, startled but trying not to show it.

"I mean it," I continued. "You've helped me so much. I'm glad I've got a friend like you. Not many people would do so much for me."

"Whatever," I heard him mutter. I giggled and closed my eyes, enjoying the cold air pushing against me due to the fast speed of the car. Over the sound of the rushing wind around us, I thought I could hear him sigh. "What wouldn't I do for you?"

But I wasn't sure if I'd heard him right. Or even if he said anything at all.

--

"Harriet!" I threw my arms around the older woman's neck. She laughed and returned the embrace, her thick arms squeezing me tight.

"Oh, Miss Utonium! What a surprise!" She smiled as she pulled away to look at me. "We weren't expecting you."

"I know, I'm really sorry to barge in," I looked away from her warm, familiar face and caught Butch's steady gaze from where he stood behind me. "May we come in?"

"Oh, heavens! Of course!" She released me from my hold and stepped to the side. "Please come in. You're father is in his lab, do you want me to fetch him?"

"No," I said as I walked through the tall doorway. I heard Butch's steps close behind me. "I'll see him when he comes up for dinner. Until then, do you mind starting some tea for Butch and I? We'll take it out on the terrace."

Harriet looked over at Butch, studying him without concealing her curiosity. But she held no malice in her eyes and she was still smiling so I figures we were alright. He was, after all, dressed rather casually and nothing about him screamed '_I fight in gangs and rob jewelry stores_!' so she probably thought nothing ill of him.

"Um, Mister…"

"Sawyer," Both Butch and I said at once. Harriet caught my eye before looking back over at Butch.

"Mister Sawyer, what would you like in your tea?" She asked politely.

"Two lumps of sugar for him and honey for me," I said quickly.

They both sent me looks but Harriet just smiled and nodded. She smiled at Butch next, who just nodded back, and then she beat her hasty retreat. The sound of her heels against the marble floor signaled her exit and I watched her disappear before letting out a breath.

"I don't drink tea," Butch said from behind me.

I spun around and grinned up at him. "I don't either, but I needed her to leave us alone."

"Devious," He grinned and I swatted at him. "So who was she?"

"The head maid," I replied, looking over my shoulder to where she had disappeared. "I've known her forever. She's a really sweet woman."

"She wasn't dressed in a uniform," Butch frowned.

"Despite sick male fantasies, all maids don't wear those skanky outfits," I muttered while turning towards the nearest flight of stairs.

"Yeah, like I'd like to see _her_ in one of those," Butch said sarcastically.

"Be nice!" I hissed at him while grabbing for his hand. "Come on, we need to go upstairs before she comes back. She's endearing, but really nosy. She'll ask thousands of questions if we stay here any longer than necessary."

Before he could object I tugged his hand and he was forced to follow my lead. I walked through the familiar corridors, the eyes of the paintings and the statues watching us as we walked. Finally I got to the library and I opened the door with a satisfied sigh.

"I hate that hallway," I muttered, letting go of Butch's hand and shutting the door behind us.

"Why are we in a library?" He asked, looking up at the walls of books around us. Most of them were on science but the ones on the west wall were all fiction and I'd read most of the ones on the lower shelf. Reading wasn't my favorite thing to do in the world, but I'd done it often in my early teen years.

"Look," I pointed over to a winding staircase in the corner of the large room. "That leads upstairs to my sister, Blossom's, sitting room. My room is right down the hall from there."

"Your house is fucking huge," Butch said, stilling looking around at everything.

"You said that when you first saw it," I laughed.

"I didn't know they made houses this big," He continued as he walked over to a large, plush chair situated right in front of a fireplace. His fingers reached out and thumbed the books that lay on a table near by. "Some of these books look ancient."

"Some are," I said, my voice lulled as I watched his distracted face. His eyes moved as he read the titles of a few books.

"The complete works of Charles Dickens," He read while walking towards a certain shelf where dozens of brown books were lined up together. They were old books with worn covers. I walked over to his side and stared at the gold font titles.

"Those are mine," I smiled, my fingers coming up to lightly trace the gold lettering of one of the volumes. "I begged my dad to get them for me on my twelfth birthday. I loved reading _Great Expectations_ in school. I guess his style of writing got to me."

Butch said nothing, just stared oddly at all the books. It was like he was staring at a person, evaluating and taking in each detail in title. I was certain he was unaware I had even spoken. I frowned up at him.

"Do you like Dickens?" I asked.

"I don't really read all that much," He said after a short pause. "But when I was little my mom used to read me _Oliver Twist_ before I fell asleep. My brothers and I used to pretend to sleep because if she read too much of it she'd start crying."

"Crying?" I asked, interested but careful not to pry about his mother.

"I think the whole story reminded her too much of my brothers and me," He grinned ironically and without humor. "The whole poor orphan, fighting, little food aspect of the story."

"But you weren't orphans yet," I said softly.

"No," He frowned. "But we knew we would be someday. Even she knew it. Maybe that's why she cried."

I reached over to put a hand on his arm, but thought better of it and instead pulled my hand back and smoothed the soft dress Mrs. Anderson had lent me. I read over the familiar titles before me and frowned as well.

"I used to cry reading _Oliver Twist_ too," I said simply, before tugging his hand and leading him away. That was enough sad talking.

--

"Tada!" I smiled, flipping on the switch to my room and looking around the familiar setting. It was exactly as I'd left it only a few weeks ago, but it felt like I hadn't been there in a lifetime. Everything was mine, but it was as if another girl had lived there.

"It's very blue," Butch said evenly from behind me. His eyes were tracing the high ceilings, pausing on the flat screen TV, and evaluating each decoration. "Stuffed animals?"

I blushed. "They're cute!" I said defensively as I snatched my stuffed octopus off my bed and held it close. He threw me a wry look, his lips tugging into a smirk. "Oh shut it! You should be glad I'm not bringing them back and decorating your apartment with them."

Butch laughed and I chucked my octopus at him. I instantly felt bad for treating my poor old octopus so badly and placed it gently back on my bed. Butch just watched in amusement and I sent him a warning look before walking away from him.

I walked into my closet, falling to my hands and knees in order to look for my extra suitcases. The clothes I left behind were nicer then the ones I'd originally taken with me, but to make them all fit I'd have to stuff them all into whatever carrying case I could find. Cashmere and Silk be damned.

"Your closet is bigger then my apartment," Butch was somewhere behind me and I blushed, conscious of my butt stuck up in the air. I tossed my hair and looked up at him. He was staring blankly down at me and I prayed he didn't notice my blush.

"Yeah, well, I have a sister who shops like it's a professional sport, so I need somewhere to put all the stuff she makes me buy," I grinned. I spotted a suitcase under a pile of skirts and I dove for it. With a sound yank I pulled it out and unzipped it. "Finally, now we can get to work."

"We?" Butch voiced.

"Yes '_we_'," I retaliated. "Why else did you come? Aren't you here to help me?"

"I just figured I could snag a few heirlooms, jewels, plasma TVs…you know."

I pinned him with a harsh look. "Butch Sawyer, you better not steal anything from this house. I promise if you do, I'll-"

"Chill," He rolled his eyes. "That was called a joke."

"Hah," I said dryly. "Now grab whatever clothes you think look decent and sensible and shove them in here. I'll help out too and maybe we'll find some more suitcases while we do it. We have to hurry though. I also need to get the lamps, bedding, and mattress down to the car. All the rest of the stuff I need I'm going to buy on my own."

"Right," He muttered, walking over to a shelf of clothing and staring uncomfortably at it. "You really don't expect me to do this, right?"

"Oh, be a man Butch!" I laughed.

He said nothing, just frowned slightly and stared at the clothes around him. After a moment of deliberation (where I seriously thought he was going to just snap and burn all my clothes in desperation) he finally starting working. With absolutely no concern for what he was grabbing, he started tossing any garment his hands touched into the suitcase.

"Gee, thanks buddy," I mumbled sarcastically as I shifted the hangers around in search for some pretty clothes. "You're great at this."

--

"God, this is heavy," I muttered as I lugged a ten-ton suitcase down the steps. What had Butch shoved in there? Bricks?

About halfway down the main staircase I heard the door to my father's lab open. I froze, suitcase in hand, like a criminal caught in the act. Butch, coming down behind me with about two suitcases, almost slammed into my back at my sudden stop.

"What is it?" Butch asked, his voice hushed and his eyes looking around.

"My father," I explained. I took a deep breath, trying to gain courage. It wasn't as if I was sneaking off or anything. I fully intended to talk to my father. And despite the fact that I was carrying suitcases and rushing, I wasn't running away. "Come on, I'll introduce you to him."

"Are you sure?" Butch's question startled me and I looked back at him, my eyebrow raised.

"What?" I asked. For some reason we were both whispering, and I felt like we were plotting something. Great, suitcases and whispering…this looked completely not suspicious.

"He doesn't have to meet me if you don't want him to," He said, bending his knees a bit to be on my level. I frowned. "I can just grab the rest of your shit and wait in the car. You can take your time."

"Butch," I said slowly. His green eyes watched me closely and his face was absolutely emotionless. I tried to read him but it was almost impossible. "I want him to meet you. He may think I made you up if not."

"You told him about me?" He asked, clearly shocked. I wished I had a camera to document the raised eyebrow and unconscious frown that molded his face.

"I may have mentioned you once or twice," I smiled.

Butch's frown deepened. "Why would you-"

"Bubbles?" My father's voice was loud and I jolted. "What are you doing here?"

I turned and smiled widely at him from where he stood at the bottom of the stairwell. He was in his lab coat and his smile was familiar and warm. His dark eyes, however, weren't as friendly as his smile. They were trained and narrowed suspiciously on the man behind me. I automatically shifted to block Butch from view, even though it didn't do much. He was, after all, quite taller than me.

"Dad!" I said happily. Inside I was nervous, but I couldn't think of the reason why. Sure, I was going to have to lie to him about why I needed all my old stuff, but I'd lied to him before. Even if I hated doing it, I was capable. So why was I feeling as if I had a thousand butterflies in my stomach?

"Who's your friend, and what brings you lurking on my stairways?" He asked, his gaze on Butch still.

"Um, Dad-" I swallowed. "I…"

"Hello sir," Butch's voice was strong and not a bit nervous. "I'm Butch Sawyer; I'm your daughter's neighbor. She needed to come and pick up some of her old stuff and I offered to give her a ride and help out. I'm sorry for not meeting you sooner, but you were working and we didn't want to interrupt."

"Ah," My father digested this for a moment. He obviously hadn't expected Butch to actually give a decent answer (I hadn't expected him to answer at all) and I wondered what he thought the real reason for my being here was. "Well, then come on down. There's no reason for you two to stay on the staircase all day. Leave the suitcases there, I'll have someone bring them to your car later."

I swallowed, relieved for the moment, and set the suitcase down on the step. My father was still watching us critically before turning abruptly and heading towards the sitting room, no doubt. I groaned slightly, knowing he was going to ask lots of questions.

"It's going to be fine," Butch said lowly into my ear. I just nodded. "Come on."

His hand was large and warm as it came up to rest on the small of my back. He pushed lightly to put me in motion and soon I was being led in the direction my father had disappeared. I felt slightly better, but foolishly so. Whenever a man led me with his hand on the small of my back, I felt braver.

I thanked God that somehow Butch knew this.

"So, Mr. Sawyer," My father said once we entered the sitting room. "I've heard about you."

I pinned my father with a look and he smiled back at me. He was already seated in the big leather chair by the window, his arms crossed. I sat on one the end of the couch and Butch sat on the other. I crossed my legs and Butch leaned back, looking comfortable. I envied his cool.

"Have you?" Butch asked.

"Bubbles said you're a mechanic, is that right?" Butch nodded. "And she said you helped her get into her apartment."

"I try to be a good neighbor," Butch shrugged. I snorted at that reply and both men sent me odd looks.

"Well then, I should thank you for being so courteous to my daughter. I worry about her often, it's nice to know she has a good neighbor around," My father said after a moment. "The city is a dangerous place, after all."

Butch said nothing and I bit my lip. Come on, unsocial butterfly! He could at least attempt to carry out a full conversation, despite his lack of communicative skills. He had been doing so well too!

"It's not that dangerous dad," I smiled at him. I couldn't tell if he was mad at me, suspicious, or just being a normal dad. Or maybe all three. "I'm alright, see?"

"Yeah," My father laughed. "But you can't blame a dad for worrying. You've never been on your own before, you don't exactly know what you're doing."

"Yeah, but she's done fine so far," Butch said from his place on the couch. "You should show some faith in her, she's stronger then you think."

Although I was flattered by Butch's compliment (he didn't exactly hand them out free, after all), I looked quickly over at my father. I didn't want him thinking Butch was trying to be rude or insulting. Butch's personality just didn't do well with the sort of integration my father was giving us and he was undoubtedly feeling a bit defensive.

Oddly though, the smile on my father's face relaxed and his eyes grew warmer.

"Yes," My father grinned. "She's a brave girl. She gets that from her mother."

I smiled softly at my father. I knew, on some level, that whatever Butch said had somehow won my father over. That suspicion my father had was gone and I felt relieved. I didn't want my father to hate Butch just for the sake of hating him. My dad had always been protective and it meant a lot to me that he accepted Butch as my friend.

"Well then," I clapped my hands together in earnest. "We should really get going! It was great seeing you-"

"Yeah right, young lady," My father laughed. "Did you really think you were getting off the hook that easy?"

"Um…yes?" I tried weakly.

"Nice try," He shook his head. "Now, tell me why you need all that stuff."

"Oh, well…" Panic gripped me again. I'd forgotten I'd have to tell him that lie! What was my excuse? I looked quickly over to Butch, who met my gaze. He understood my pleading look and opened his mouth to explain when the door to the sitting room slammed open and Harriet rushed in.

"Mr. Utonium, your guests will be here soon. The dining room is clean and ready for the dinner table to be set," She informed him, sparing Butch and I a hasty look. I blushed, remembering the tea we'd left untouched on the terrace.

"Guests?" I looked over at my father with a small frown.

"I'm having some colleagues over for a dinner tonight. I stopped work early to get ready for it but it completely slipped my mind once I saw you," He explained, standing up. "I'll call it off. I want to catch up with you before you head back to the city."

"No, really, that's okay," I said hastily. "Don't cancel the dinner, we'll just leave and I'll call you later."

"They could stay for dinner too," Harriet volunteered. From the corner of my eye I saw Butch glare harshly at her.

"What a wonderful idea," My father grinned. "That way I can catch up with you and get to know Mr. Sawyer better."

I could already tell my father expected Butch to be the type of guy that laughed at all his jokes and played golf like all the boys I grew up with. I groaned and shook my head. What a disaster! Butch would go insane at a dinner party with my father's colleagues and I'd die trying to keep the peace.

I mean, eventually one of them would realize Butch was skull-bashing, jewelry store robbing, antisocial person. And…well…then what?

"Actually, dad, we can't," I said quickly, standing up to signify my point. Butch stood up as well. "Dinner will end late and we have a long drive home. We'll be exhausted. I'm sorry. I really wish we could stay and eat though."

"We have plenty of guest rooms," Harriet smiled. "You two can stay."

"Fucking bitch," I heard Butch mumble from somewhere behind me.

"Yes, great idea Harriet. We always have room for guests," My father nodded. "Butch, what do you say? Do you mind staying the night?"

I looked back at Butch, my face as apologetic as I could make it. Butch looked at me, his expression clearly stating that he wasn't okay with this. I bit my lip, defeated. It wasn't fair to Butch, I couldn't make him stay here. He'd be uncomfortable and out of place and—

"No, sir, that'd be fine," Butch replied coolly.

"Good," My dad grinned, grasping Butch's hand and shaking it. "It's good to have you here. Harriet, go make up a guest bedroom. Bubbles, dinner will be at eight. I have to go change now, I can't be in my lab coat when they show up."

And with that both Harriet and my father exited the room. Leaving me alone…with Butch.

"I'm so sorry!" I spun around, looking pleadingly at the raven-haired man. "This is not how I planned this to work out. I am so, so sorry. You can leave and go home, okay? I'll stay here and catch a cab back tomorrow."

"I told your father I'd stay," Butch said plainly. I couldn't tell if he was upset.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

He smirked slightly. "I'll behave."

"I wasn't worried about that," I smiled, rolling my eyes. "Really Butch, is this okay? I'll be fine on my own. I don't want you to stay here for me."

He shrugged. "It's fine Betty, just calm down."

I smiled and walked quickly over to him. Without preamble I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. After a moment he let one on his arms come up to give me small hug back. I grinned against his shirt and breathed in his soapy smell.

"You're amazing," I said as I pulled back. "My dad will be so much more at ease if he gets to know you. He hates when I'm alone somewhere and after this he'll be better with letting me go off. I mean, at least he'll know my neighbor isn't a psychotic killer."

Butch gave a small smile.

"Yeah, well, that's as far as he knows, right?" He joked.

I pushed him lightly.

"Honestly Butch, what would I do without you?" I sighed. "You're, like, my best friend."

My words hung in the air and I blushed. He stared oddly at me and I looked at the ground. Way to go Bubbles! I already knew how much he hated me saying he was my friend, and there I go! I just had to make him feel awkward.

"Um…I mean…" I tried to recover.

"Well," Butch said tonelessly and I looked up at him. "You're my _only_ friend. So just be glad, I'm not as lenient with anyone else."

I smiled. "Can your only friend give you another hug?"

"No," He said quickly. "No more hugs."

I giggled. "Come on," I said playfully. "Friendship hugs are the best."

"You're weird," He said, shaking his head.

"One hug," I joked, making a move as if I was going to lunge for him. He caught me by the waist and spun me away, a small corner of his lip tugging into a smile. "Butch!" I laughed, catching my balance.

"I said no," He repeated, eyeing me.

"But you really want me to hug you," I smiled. "Deep down, you know it."

Butch shook his head again. I watched, my breathing a little fast, as his hand reached up to brush back a curl of my hair. I froze as his fingers trailed lightly over my temple, across my cheek, and gently traced the curve of my lips. His eyes were dark and considering and the room was warm.

"Butch," I said breathily. His fingers were still leaving burning sensations on my skin. His eyes were on my lips. "We should get ready for dinner."

His hand fell away and I swallowed thickly.

We both stared at each other for a long moment.

I waited for him to say something. Or do something. I waited for a sign that I was imagining the twist in my stomach and the heat on my skin. I waited, my heartbeat fast, to wake up. Because surly this had to be a nightmare. Or a dream. I wasn't sure, but it couldn't be real.

"Right," Butch said blankly and without another word he turned and walked out.

I bit my lip, plopped down onto the couch, and buried my head in my hands. I tried to think of my father, my sisters, my fiancé, and all my responsibilities. I tried to think of the mess in my apartment, and all the stuff I had to fix. I tried to think of my job and all my expenses.

I did my best.

Because if I tried hard enough…maybe I could pretend I wasn't thinking about how much I had wanted Butch to kiss me.

--

_It's the wrong time  
For somebody new.  
It's a small crime,  
And I've got no excuse._

--

**I really, really hope you liked that chapter! It took me forever and I'm still not completely satisfied with it, but there it is. I'm so sorry for the wait, truly I am. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed and for all the ideas I recieved. I won't forget about them and I'll see how they work out and future chapters. **

**But yeah, what did you think? No flames, please!**


	13. Favorite Sin

**A/N: This chapter starts off out of order. Just warning you, so that you're not massively confused. If you pay attention you'll see what's happening. Oh…and there's violence…and blood. Sorry.**

--

_My heart beats fast again,  
Only seems to fly when you're around.  
You seem to cycle a smile that  
Builds me all up and brings me down._

--

I laid awake on the king sized bed, the bedspread pulled up around my waist and my hands shoved behind my head. My hair was wet against my palms and the pillowcase was silk. The sheets were silk too. Before then I'd only touched silk on maybe five different occasions and suddenly I was sleeping in it.

I sighed and stared up at the ceiling.

The ceiling was the only part of the room that didn't reek of money—as long as you didn't focus on the hand-carved wooden ceiling fan, of course. I wasn't focusing on the fan, though. I just kept my eyes on the plain, white surface above me.

If I stared at the ceiling and only the ceiling, it was easy to pretend I wasn't in a mansion. It wasn't too hard to pretend that I was back in my crammed up apartment. The feel of silk and the smell of oranges in the air were hard to ignore, but I could do it. I could pretend.

And although I usually shied away from lying to myself, I didn't see the harm in it at the time. After all, I liked my apartment more than this place. Why not let myself believe I was there? Sure, it was dingy and cheap and hardly up to the standards of most people…but it was mine.

I liked being around stuff that was mine.

I'd bought it with the money I'd earned working in the shop. Yeah, so what if everything in it was either stolen or bought with money I'd robbed from various people and places? The apartment itself was bought legitimately and that was enough.

I'd made plenty of money robbing stores or armed cars throughout my life, but I'd never felt the need to fill my place up with expensive stuff. To be honest it was because I didn't want too much. I didn't rob for the money or the merchandise I could buy with it.

I robbed because I was good at it. I liked it. It was what I was made for.

Silk and mansions…it just wasn't for me.

I felt uncomfortable in the bedroom they let me stay in. I was uncomfortable with the smell and the look of everything. I felt uncomfortable and restless. And that's never a good thing. I was never pleasant when I was restless.

My mom used to tell me that it was the rich who ruled us. I never really believed her, though. After all, where were the rich? The gangs and the pimps and the dealers were hardly rich. They were born and raised on the same streets as me, and as far as I was concerned it was them who ran things.

But as I grew older I realized the sad truth. The rich did rule us. They ruled everything.

Money was power. Money was insurance and respect and control. The rich owned the buildings we lived in, paid the cops who caught us, and had a hand in everything. Rich men would buy whores from the pimps, they'd get drugs from the dealers, and they'd never get touched by the gangs.

Because money made you untouchable.

Money made the cops look the other way.

It let you live far away from the crime and despair of the world. It cloaked you in expensive garments and let you have immaculate homes. It made you seem less like a man and more like a god. It made you seem better then everyone else. It made you think you were better than anyone you met.

And so, I suppose my mother was right.

The rich ruled us.

They ruled everyone.

And I wasn't too blind to see that. I knew this and I hated it. But there is little someone can do about such things. Money had always been power, and I was simply born without it. I found other ways to gain power, of course. My fists and my brothers helped with that. But still I was hardly powerful in the eyes of the rich. Because I wasn't rich myself.

That was called the luck of the draw, I suppose.

I was just unlucky.

I just wasn't rich.

And I had thought that was okay with me. Really. I mean, why be rich and a fucking pussy when you can run the backstreets and the underground life? I didn't have cops in the palm of my hand, but I had plenty of people at my disposal.

But lying there, surrounded by a world I was so distant from, I realized I suddenly didn't feel okay. This was a world I didn't belong in. A world that on any other occasion or circumstance would reject me. A world with silk sheets and maids and butlers and cooks.

And I hated it.

I hated this world.

I hated the money and the house.

I hated the restless feeling it all gave me.

I shouldn't be there. I should be back in the city. Why wasn't I back in the city?

In the city I was powerful, I was feared, I was respected. I knew how to gain what I wanted and stray from the things I didn't need. People here looked at me like dirt. They were cautious and wary. I was nothing but a common punk to them.

They cared nothing for the power I held, because to them it was trivial. To them, it was nothing.

I hated being nothing. I hated being powerless.

I didn't live my whole life fighting, getting shot, getting bruised, getting broken—just to lay in a bed and feel like nothing.

"Fucking rich bastards," I grumbled sourly, my eyes still focused on the ceiling as my stomach churned with cold anger and anxiety.

"Mshng?" I heard the unintelligible sound from the girl lying beside me.

I sighed, my eyes shifting away from the white expanse of plaster above me. I looked over at the girl in bed next to me. Her eyes were still closed, her dark eyelashes contrasting with the pale skin of her cheeks. She was lying on her stomach, her arms crossed under her pillow. Her body rose and fell steadily with each breath she took. Her blonde hair was spread out around her, the moon shining in from the window hit it and made it glow an almost silver color.

I was still mad at her. No, still pissed at her was more like it.

I glared at her, which was pretty pointless since she was obviously out like a light. I looked away, doing my best to just ignore her. But the moment I looked away she whimpered pathetically in her sleep. I looked back over at her, seeing her brow furrowed and a frown on her face.

Great…another nightmare.

I was still, waiting for her to get over it by herself. I didn't feel like helping her tonight. Hopefully it'd end and she wouldn't start screaming. She'd be hard to ignore if she started wailing like a banshee.

"No," She whispered, her voice hoarse and muffles by her pillow. "Stop."

I sighed, knowing that the screaming would come next. She was obviously getting scared if her tense body was any indication. I reluctantly made a soft shushing sound but she didn't calm down or respond, seeing as she was no more than a useless lump on the mattress. I rolled my eyes and turned onto my side. I reached over and let my arm encircle her slim waist. I pulled her closer to me and settled her against my chest.

She suddenly went lax against me and I waited to see if she'd woken up. But she just kept sleeping, her nightmare hindered by my touch. I felt irritated with myself for letting myself comfort her in such a manner. I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore my situation. Which was hard, because I was still so upset. And Bubbles was warm. And soft. And the smell of her made my blood pump a bit faster.

I tried to feed off of my anger for her as I curved myself protectively around her, careful no to wake her.

She shifted towards me, her nose resting against the bare skin of my chest. My grip on her waist tightened possessively and I brought my face down to rest my chin on the top of her head. I clenched my teeth in annoyance but at least she wasn't having nightmares anymore.

God, could this day get any worse?

--

_**A few hours earlier…**_

**--**

I stalked through the halls with growing frustration.

Frustration with myself, the huge fucking mansion, my situation, and everything else.

I felt my frustration run through me as I turned a sharp left. Whenever I was frustrated, I got angry. And whenever I was angry, I felt like fighting. But fighting wasn't exactly and option here. And so I felt my muscles coil and the tension build within me.

And to make matters worse, I had come to the realization that I hated when Bubbles was out of my sight. It was a sad, pathetic realization but I didn't stop to care about that. It didn't seem to matter. What did matter was that she was somewhere I didn't know about, and I had no way of knowing if she was okay.

In the city I'd see her almost every second we weren't at work. She was my neighbor first, then I was constantly walking her home, and now she stayed with me. So seeing her was never an issue. I knew where she was and if she was okay. It was a reassuring feeling.

But we weren't in the city now.

And I had no idea where she was.

Or, for that matter, where I was.

And I couldn't help but get a little frustrated with myself for leaving her alone. Granted, there were no Audley Boys or common punks roaming around to hurt her…but still. It's the principal of the matter. Hadn't I resigned myself to watch out for her? Hadn't I told her I'd make sure she was okay?

But I'd let my anger cloud my reasoning when I stormed out of the sitting room and turned down various hallways of the huge mansion, just a few short minutes ago. I was so pissed at myself for almost kissing her, for almost slipping, for almost letting her break down the last of my barriers. I was so mad that by the time I'd calmed down, I'd gotten myself lost within the large house.

And by getting myself lost I had no means of knowing where she was.

_Great._

I shoved my hands into my pockets and cursed when I realized I'd left my cigarettes in the car. Frustration made my muscles tighten with annoyance and I looked around me for a clue of where to turn. It was stupid to be so worried about her, but still I felt anxious. After all, bad stuff always happened, no matter where she was. Surely she'd find some way to get herself hurt.

And I wasn't there to—

"Um, excuse me?" An irritated voice halted my growing concern. I turned around to see a young woman step out from around a corner. She had tightly curled red hair, pale skin, thousands of freckles, and a scowl etched on her face.

I stared at her, feeling slightly wary but not showing it. I didn't exactly want to admit that I was lost, but that really seemed to be the only option, didn't it? Besides, if I admitted I was lost, maybe she'd point me in the direction I needed to go.

I sighed and regarded her slightly. "Can you-"

"Um, hello?" She snapped, cutting me off and my mouth shut tight with irritation. "I've been here for ten minutes and no one has shown me to the dining hall. What kind of service is that? I should tell your boss you're slacking off on the job."

I held back a bitter laugh. She obviously thought I worked here.

"You're here for the dinner?" I asked, raising a condescending eyebrow. If she could act all high and mighty, so could I.

She huffed. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No," I said simply before turning away from her. She was of no use to me if she was lost as well. I needed someone who could lead me back to where I'd left Bubbles, seeing as she was most likely still there or in her room getting ready.

I heard the spoiled girl behind me suck in an irritated breath before the click of her heals signaled her hasty perusal. I smirked slightly and picked up my pace, aiming to irk her a bit. That prissy brat really needed to be knocked down a few pegs.

"Hey!" She called, hot on my heels. "Hey you! I can have you fired for this!"

I rolled my eyes and turned a random corner. In front of me now was a set of glass doors. I frowned and moved to open them when a finely manicured hand snapped around my wrist. I stilled and sent a withering glare to the redhead.

"Oh," She pulled her hand back hastily, obviously thrown off by my look. But she regained her bitchy-ness in record time and soon she was scowling at me. "You can't walk away from me, you stupid boy. Don't you know who I am?"

"We already covered this," I said dully.

Without another word I pulled the doors open and walked threw them. Suddenly my footsteps echoed and the air smelled thick of chlorine. The ground was tiled and everything was stark white. I smirked.

"Indoor pool," I commented with approval as I walked over to the water's edge. It was a nice sized pool too.

"Ugh, you wretched boy!" The girl's annoying voice echoed and made me flinch slightly. "People are going to think I'm late for dinner."

"Not my fault you got lost," I said sardonically, leaving out the fact that I was lost too.

"Who _are_ you?" She asked suddenly and I turned to face her. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she was staring at me with annoyance and curiosity.

"No one," I said in a sinister way.

"Well, I'm Princess Morbucks," She said proudly. The name was familiar and I remembered her from a few tabloids they'd been selling on the side of the road. Surely that was nothing to be proud of. But I supposed she was pretty rich.

"Great," I said, turning back to look into the clear water.

"You don't work here, do you?" She asked, stepping closer.

"No," I replied with a frown, feeling a bit distracted. I needed to figure out how to get back.

"Then what are you doing here?" She asked rudely.

I didn't answer, instead I turned to leave. She was quick though, despite her heels, and soon she blocked my exit. Her dark eyes glared up at me and she crossed her arms under her breasts. The room cast and odd blue glow over everything and her pale skin and white dress seemed distorted with the color.

"Well, answer me!" She snapped and I fought the urge to sigh. I hated when people ordered me to talk. I talked when I felt like it and the only people who really got the right to make me speak were my brothers and Ace. And even then I had to be in a good mood to oblige.

"I'm trying to find my way to the sitting room," I replied in a tight voice, feeling the urge to shove her aside.

"Which sitting room?" She asked.

Of course they had more than one sitting room. They probably had dozens.

"Just forget it," I said plainly, trying to walk around her.

"What's your name?" She continued, her tone slightly interested.

"Listen, I have to get back to the front of the house," I explained, anger beginning to tint my normally calm tone. "So unless you know the way, you can just get out of mine."

Her cheeks colored red with embarrassment and indignation. I watched this and frowned, ready for her to throw a fit. Honestly, she was shaping up to be quite the stereotypical spoiled brat. I was slightly grateful Bubbles hadn't picked up on some of this girl's tendencies.

"You jerk!" She screamed, as expected. "My daddy will hear about this, I promise you that. I should not have to put up with the likes of you…you…you, dirty, vile boy!"

And with that last sentence she stepped forward and gave me a sound push. I hadn't expected that and my eyes widened slightly as I stepped back, trying to regain my balance. To my dismay, my foot hit nothing but air and I felt myself begin to fall backwards.

The water was warm as I fell into it. It surrounded and engulfed me at once and I blinked against the strong chlorine. I hit the smooth bottom of the pool and positioned my feet down to launch back up. My clothes were heavy and made my movements slow. The lights around the edges made everything look odd and I blew out my breath as I rose up to the surface.

"You fucking bitch," I sneered as I surfaced with a violent splash. I shoved my wet hair from my eyes and glared up at the redhead. She smirked down at me, satisfied and feeling victorious. I'd never hit a girl before but I was seriously contemplating the aspect at the moment.

"Oh hush," She laughed icily. "You should have just been nice to me and this wouldn't have had to happen. You obviously don't know your place."

My jaw clenched and I waded towards the pool's edge with stiff, angry movements. I heard her heels click as she left and although the girl needed a reality check, I didn't hurry to catch up with her. I gripped the edge and hauled myself back onto the tiled floor. My clothes immediately suctioned to by body and I stood up in annoyance.

What now? I was lost, pissed, and soaked. I had no clothes to change into and my temper was brimming on the edge of outright violence. I let out a shaky breath, my anger making it hard to even concentrate. I plopped back down on the side of the pool, dripping everywhere, and glared into the water.

I sat like that for a while, just letting myself slowly relax. I'd always had a bit of trouble with my anger but usually I'd just fight or rob something to let loose. No such luck here. That prissy brat was gone so I couldn't argue with her and I doubted Bubbles would appreciate me stealing from her home.

Oh shit—Bubbles.

My body tensed up again as I remembered the way I left her. She was either really pissed at me because I tried to kiss her…or she was confused as hell. Either way, I didn't quite care. I did care, however, that I didn't know where she was and I had no way of finding her. She probably thought I was avoiding her or something.

She must think I'm a coward.

I scowled at that and stood up. I had to check up on her, awkward situation or not. I didn't feel right leaving her alone for too long and this had definitely been too long. Now, if only I could find out where I was…

"Mr. Sawyer, there you are!" A startled voice said from the door. It was Harriet, the head maid. She was frowning and looking at me curiously. Her eyes rested briefly on my hips before meeting my eyes. "What in God's name happened to you?"

I frowned and looked down at my dripping form. A puddle had formed where I'd been standing and my clothes hung awkwardly against my body like a deformed second skin. There was no chance in hell I was telling her that I was pushed into the pool by that redheaded brat. That would be too much for my pride and ego to handle.

"I felt like going for a swim," I said with as much sincerity as I could muster. I pulled it off pretty well, if I do say so myself.

Harriet merely shook her head, amused.

"Come now, Mr. Sawyer," She instructed. "I'll show you to your room."

I sighed but obliged.

--

"This will be your room," The older woman told me. She opened a random door on the long hallway and stood aside to let me enter.

I walked in, taking in my surroundings with a slight wariness. The room was pretty generic. The colors were dark and plain so that they could suit any gender. The floor was a polished dark wood and the bed was a king size with a deep red bedspread. A large TV hung on the wall near a small leather sofa and everything seemed completely lavish.

"Will this do?" She asked, coming in behind me and making her way over to the bed. She fluffed one of the pillows and tugged the blanket slightly. "I just cleaned it this afternoon, so there's no reason you should feel the least bit uncomfortable. But if there is something amiss, just send for me."

I nodded slightly. The air smelled of oranges from the cleaners, no doubt. There didn't seem to be a speck of dirt or dust on any surface. Everything practically gleamed. It was definitely clean. Too clean, if you ask me.

"These are the spare clothes that I was told to give you," She explained. I looked over to see her laying out some garments on the bed. I looked down at my feet to see that I'd dripped on the wooden floors and I rolled my eyes. "You can change and clean up in the bathroom, which is right through that door. I'll send someone to fetch you when it's time for you to come down."

I said nothing, just watched her look around the room in a last attempt to make sure everything was fine. It felt odd to be waited on and cared for in such a manner and I shifted my feet, restless. I wanted her to leave. I didn't need someone to wait on me like I was some rich king or something.

"Any questions?" She asked as she walked towards the door.

"No," I said simply. And then, thinking quickly, I amended myself. "Ma'am, could you possibly tell me where Bubbles went?"

Her forehead furrowed gently and she looked contemplative. My polite tone obviously led her to think little of my request and I thanked god. I doubted she'd believe me if I told her I merely wanted to ensure Bubbles was okay.

"I believe she's getting ready at the moment," She said, looking a bit considerate. "Do you want me to tell her anything?"

"No," I said dismissively. I hated that I had to rely on a maid for information about my neighbor, but it was the best I could get at the moment. I'd check on her myself when I had the chance. "Thanks." I threw in for good measure. I didn't care too much for being polite but I figured the maid deserved it for the way she hadn't questioned me too much about being soaking wet.

She looked over at me and smiled softly. "You're welcome. Enjoy your stay, Mr. Sawyer."

I rolled my eyes. Sure, I'd enjoy it alright. Just as much as I'd enjoy a punch in the gut. I mean, come on, this was the last place I wanted to be. I stood out in this place like a sore thumb and I hated being on display. I just wanted to be in the city again.

But oh well, too late for that now.

I walked over to the door and locked it. I eyed the room suspiciously, my eyebrow raised.

"Let's just get this over with," I muttered with annoyance as I walked back over to the bed. She had laid out a pair of black slacks, a black button up shirt, and a black dinner jacket for me to wear. At my feet were a pair of dress shoes and on the dresser was a red silk tie.

I frowned. I hadn't dressed up many times in my life. My mother never took us to church, we never went to any weddings, we couldn't afford to have a funeral for my mother, and my job didn't exactly require a suit. So, basically, I'd never had to occasion to dress nice. The only time I remembered wearing a suit and tie was for court, and I'd borrowed my suit from Brick.

And even in all the other times I'd been to court, I rarely dressed nice since they didn't require it where I lived.

"Whatever," I sighed as I pulled my shirt and undershirt off and tossed them against the ground. I removed my gun from where it was strapped to my waist. The metal was cold against my hipbone and I was slightly relieved to have it off. I sat it on the bedside table and unhooked my belt. My jeans fell heavily against the floor.

I pulled the black slacks on, slightly amazed they fit me. I was a bit taller than most.

I sat on the mattress, the warm air in the room against my bare chest, and grabbed my gun off the nightstand. I looked it over, my fingers lightly grazing over the barrel, the slide, spring guides, and the detachable magazine.

"If that prissy bitch ruined it…" I began with malice.

It would still shoot as long as the water hadn't ruined the ammo…which I didn't think it had. I'd have to clean it out when I got back to the city. Even if I had more guns at my exposal, I still didn't want to risk a perfectly good one rusting. It'd be a waste.

I scowled and stored the gun back around my waist. I much preferred switchblades to guns but I did what I had to. Even though there was no real danger here, I still liked to be prepared. I'd learned early on that you should never let you guard down. And the dress shirt looked loose enough to hide the bulge of the gun anyway.

I opted against the dinner jacket and tie they'd laid out for me. Mostly because I was already warm and there was no need to sweat with the dinner jacket on. And ties always made me feel constricted. It was like I'd imagine you'd feel right before being hung. Who liked having something tied around your neck like a noose?

I trailed into the bathroom after getting dressed and evaluated myself. It was no surprise that I looked hardly different than normal. The mirror showed me as I always looked, nothing changed except for the clothes. I still looked like a poor kid from the city. I'd hardly pass as middle class at best.

My all black attire either made me look like Johnny Cash or like someone in mourning, I couldn't tell which. I rolled my sleeves up above my elbows since I was warm, and you could see the scar on my left arm from a knife wound I'd gotten at sixteen. My hands were working hands and they looked rough and dirty at all times, no matter how many times I washed them. My black hair was a mess, like always. It was still wet too. The jet black strands stuck out oddly and fell against my face.

I sighed. I could tell this wasn't going to go well and I contemplated why I was even still there. After all, I could just leave, right? I didn't have to stay.

I looked into my cold face, my mouth pulled into an unconscious frown and my eyes emotionless. I wouldn't fit in here. Leaving would really be the best option. There was no point in staying. I should really just beat it.

"Mr. Sawyer?" A voice called and a light knocking came from the door.

I walked over to it and opened up, my body taking up most of the doorframe. I looked down at the young maid standing on the other side. She stared up at me, eyes large.

"Yes?" I asked.

She blushed and fiddled a bit. "The guests are arriving. It's okay for you to come down now."

I sighed. I guess there was no turning back now.

--

I'd already watched about six people arrive, most of which came as couples. I stood by the door, a few feet from Mr. Utonium, and nodded at each person as they walked in. They were already laughing and joking and smiling as if they'd been drinking wine for hours. Each of them was dressed up. The men in suits and the women in dresses.

"Oh, and who are you?" Asked a woman with dark red lips and a white fur pulled around her shoulders, as she stopped in front of me. She was not alone and it seems all the other guests were regarding me with the same curiosity. I stood still beneath their gaze.

"Butch Sawyer," I said plainly. I didn't intend to elaborate, mostly because I wasn't used to having to. Most of the people in the city already knew who I was, simply from word on the street. I wasn't used to people who didn't know me.

"He's Bubbles' neighbor," Mr. Utonium said helpfully when none of the guests stopped staring at me. "From the city."

"Oh," Said the fur woman with mild shock. "Then we have heard of you. You played tennis with the Ockleys and Dr. Parker, did you not?"

I felt like laughing.

"Yeah, sure, we'll call it that," I said sarcastically.

"Is it true you bludgeoned Dr. Parker with your racket?" A man off to the side questioned. He had a cigar in hand and his dinner jacket could hardly button over his gut. I felt irritated at the outright lie that had obviously been started.

"No," I said stiffly.

"That's a shame," A woman closer to me laughed lightly. She nudged her husband and sent me a friendly wink. "We wouldn't have held it against you if you had."

The group all laughed at that and I felt myself relax fractionally. Soon a few more couples arrived and after introductions, a few jokes, and a bunch of laughing (while I just stood there silently, of course) they were all ushered away from the entrance.

"Dinner will be served shortly," A man in a butler outfit was telling them. He was older and a few of the woman obviously knew him because they gave him quick hugs and pecks on the cheek. "Miss Morbucks is already seated and is awaiting everyone's arrival."

A small murmur of laughter flowed over the group at that last announcement and I simply rolled my eyes. It seemed the spoiled brat found her way to the dining hall after all. Damn.

The whole group moved to follow the butler, each man ushering a woman, and soon it was only Mr. Utonium and I left in the landing. I shoved my hands in my pockets casually as he regarded me with a bit of interest. His stance wasn't aggressive or mad so I figured I'd done alright.

"You're the one who nailed Dr. Parker in the head with a tennis ball." Mr. Utonium said finally. It wasn't a question, merely a statement so I did nothing but nod. The older man laughed. "Good for you, son. That man has the misconception that he's something special jut because he can mend a few brains."

I smirked. "Too bad for him. I figure I rattled his brain around more than what's considered healthy."

Mr. Utonium laughed again and shook his head.

"You'll do just fine here, Mr. Sawyer," He said. "The people over here tonight are friendly for the most part. They'll be nosy and try to pry but if you just ignore it, you'll be fine. The only one you'll have to worry about is Princess, but I'm sure you can handle her."

I scoffed. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it," He moved towards the dining room. "I usually hate these sorts of functions. I'd much rather be down in my lab than up here socializing. But as long as the people are decent, I can stomach it. Sometimes the people around here can be so vicious you'd really want to bludgeon them with a tennis racket."

I could imagine.

"Come on and eat whenever you're ready," He said before disappearing around a corner.

I let out a tired sigh. It seemed Bubble's father was a bit more real then I'd first imagined. I was a bit surprised that he'd actually seemed to be a little antisocial as well. And the people here to eat were obviously wealthy, but no where near as cruel as I knew some rich people could be.

Maybe I could get through the night without too much annoyance. No doubt I was already sick of being here, but now I wasn't completely dreading it like before.

"You look nice," I heard and I turned to see Bubbles walking towards me from the direction of the library. I felt my muscles loosen at the sight of her. My eyes scanned her form quickly, an unconscious move to make sure she was really okay.

She seemed fine.

In fact, she didn't look half bad herself. Her blonde hair was down and curled around her shoulders. She had changed dresses and was now in a simple black one that reached to her knees. I couldn't really describe it, which is a shame because it sure looked good on her.

"I think they made us match on purpose," She laughed, nodding at my black attire.

She seemed slightly nervous and she held herself away from me. I frowned, realizing that she was waiting for my reaction. She was obviously attempting to pretend that the moment in the sitting room never happened, and if she was okay with that, then so was I.

"Great," I said sarcastically and I watched her relax slightly. What did she think I was going to do? Tackle her?

"Are you hungry?" She asked politely.

"Betty," I said with a bit of annoyance. "Just relax, okay?"

"I can't," She admitted, stepping closer to me. Whatever perfume she was wearing hit me like a ton of bricks and I breathed in the heady scent. I watched her curiously as she shifted awkwardly before me. Her eyes watched me nervously. "I feel bad, Butch. I…I was rude in the sitting rude for no reason. I misinterpreted the situation completely and-"

"Listen," I cut in quickly when I realized what was going on. God this girl was really fucking naïve if she convinced herself that I hadn't been about to kiss her and she'd just overreacted. Now she was embarrassed because she thought she'd been melodramatic. "We should just go eat."

"Yeah," She smiled brightly, relieved. "But are you sure you aren't mad at me?"

Wow, she really fucking convinced herself that the almost-kiss was all made up. I knew she must feel better with that sense of logic and I frowned. Did the thought of kissing me repulse her that much? Or was this a moral thing? Either way, I really didn't want to stand in the hallway and hear her delude the situation any more.

I'd pretend it never happened if that was what she wanted, but I didn't need to listen to her beat herself up over nothing. I'd expected the blame on me, not the other way around.

"Here," I muttered, jutting out my elbow with annoyance. She seemed instantly confused as she stared from my elbow to my eyes, then back down again. "I don't know much about all this, but I'm pretty sure you're supposed to take my arm."

She seemed slightly shocked by my cold manner, but a small smile worked across her face anyway. She stepped closer and hesitantly reached up to link her arm with mine. Her small hand rested on the curve of muscle below my elbow and her shoulder brushed against my bicep.

"Now remember," She said lightly as we both walked towards the dining hall, arms linked like all the other guests had done. "Even if this dinner is horrible…you're expected to still be my friend afterwards."

"One dinner can't be so bad," I said, even though I wasn't exactly looking forward to it.

"No," She acknowledged. "But still…it might not be pretty."

I said nothing, my face blank and my posture stiff. Her hand on my arm gripped me nervously, her nails biting into the bare skin. We turned the corner and were presented with a large room with a table in the middle and a huge chandelier hanging in the center. The table was filled with people and each set of eyes turned to us as we entered.

I stared unflinchingly back at them all, Bubbles' grip on my arm almost viselike as she tried to smile politely at them.

"There you are!" The woman with the fur said at last. "How are you dear?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Bubbles said politely as I tugged her to keep us moving. I stopped near the first empty chair I could get to, avoiding the way each person was staring at us. The room was quiet and I felt myself falter. "Pull out my chair." Bubbles whispered so only I could hear.

I gripped the polished wood and pulled it out with my free hand. Afterwards I didn't know what to do so I let Bubbles scoot herself closer to the table. She smiled at the people seated next to her and started quickly into a nervous ramble.

"Oh wow Mrs. Rita," She was saying as I circled the table to take the last empty chair. I felt people watching me and I clenched my jaw. "That's a beautiful necklace. You must've spent forever looking for one so pretty. I never can keep track of necklaces, because mine always seem to break. It's a shame too…"

I tuned her out as I sat down. There was a balding man with a hairpiece to my right. He was sipping some wine and watching Bubbles as she talked. Her cheeks had flushed with mild embarrassment and her fingers were toying with the cloth napkin in front of her.

"Oh yes, I love this necklace," The woman responded, finally getting a chance to get in the conversation. Bubbles really had a rambling issue. "Dan gave it me the year after we got married."

And soon the rest of the table was filled with the dull thrum of conversations. Most of it was about politics or stocks, some about gossip and other various events going on. The man on my right was basically enthralled with watching Bubbles as she talked and I was getting a little ticked off to be honest.

"And you are?" I finally asked him, if only for the sake of getting him to look away from her.

"Nicolas Eugene," He said distractedly before finally turning his attention to me. "I own all the movie theatres in the city. My great grandfather was the owner of the first theatre in Townsville. It's a legacy."

I tapped my thumb against my leg under the table. This was considered small talk, right? Well, I didn't do small talk. I didn't really see much of a point in talking at all. I sort of just stared at the old man for a moment, waiting for him to continue. Not like I cared or anything.

"You're the boy who lives next to Bubbles, right?" He asked after a moment of silence.

Ch. Boy?

"Yeah, that's me," I confirmed. _Or_ _I'm the man who she's living with_…

"What do you do for a living?" He asked, seemingly curious.

"I'm a mechanic." _I_ _steal cars, rob stores, get into rumbles_…

"Ah, well, I guess someone has to be," He said with a pitying smile. "It's a shame. But there are just certain jobs that require you to get your hands dirty, and then there are the people who have to fill those jobs. It's the reason we have poor people."

I said nothing. Mainly because there was nothing I could say to that. Or…nothing _nice_ I could say to that.

"Nicolas," The woman sitting on the other side of him said quickly. She sent me a nervous glance before nudging him admonishingly. "Don't be rude to him. He's not from around here."

"Oh, I know dear," He said soothingly. "He's the boy from the city. The poor one."

I gritted my teeth together and turned to my other side, tired of the people on my right. The man had better watch his back. His insolent opinions were enough to piss me off but the way he'd been looking at my blonde neighbor was plain disconcerting. He was probably in his fifties, but I'd still deck him he kept looking at her like a sick puppy. He was married for god's sake…and she was nineteen!

"Ugh, I have to sit by you?" I heard as I turned to my left. I stilled, a sudden clench in my gut.

The redhead from before was sitting to my left, her eyes flashing with annoyance. I shared the same feelings, but I just kept silent. Maybe if I just sat there and looked mad people would just leave me alone. This seat was anything but preferable.

"Looks like you got a change of clothes," The girl, Princess, smiled.

She obviously didn't pick up on the fact that I was ignoring her.

"It was a shame I had to push you in the pool, you should've been nicer to me," Princess continued.

I said nothing. So…this dinner was going to suck.

"The other guests told me about you," She said. "They say you're from the city. Are you, like, a gang member?"

I turned and gave her a slow, dangerous glare. "Yes." I said plainly.

She opened her mouth and then shut it, obviously unsure weather I was lying or not.

"Pfff," She said finally, rolling her eyes. "Yeah right. That little baby would never live next to a gang member." She nodded at Bubbles. "She'd run home crying before you could even pull out a gun or whatever."

Well, she was wrong on three parts. One, I was basically in a gang. Two, Bubbles knew I was in a gang, and she hadn't bolted. Sure, she seemed a bit unsure, but she didn't run. And three…I could pull out my gun pretty damn fast.

"She must get pretty annoying," She continued, eyeing Bubbles across the table with a slight hint of malice. "I know I couldn't stand her growing up. I was so glad when she moved away. Her sisters and she think they are so much better than everyone else. And they're not."

I really didn't care about her private school drama. I looked around the table, trying to see if there was any sign of the food coming. The faster the food came, the faster I could eat. The faster I could eat, the faster I could leave.

"Are you screwing her?" Princess asked and my eyes snapped back to her.

"What?" I said calmly, even though I felt a bit of shock. This girl obviously didn't get an A in manner class.

"I just figured you two were having sex," She said plainly. "You came here with her, you live so close together…it all adds up."

"We aren't," I said simply. I didn't care what she thought, but I figured Bubbles wouldn't appreciate the misconception.

"Sure," She laughed. "Then why won't she stop looking over at you?"

I slowly looked over to see the small blonde girl watching me curiously. She was nodding distractedly at whatever the woman beside her was saying, but her concentration was solely on me. I smirked unconsciously at her attention and she blushed before looking away.

"See," Princess drew my attention back to her. "I'm not an idiot, I can figure stuff like this out."

I let the idiot comment go, seeing as insulting her wouldn't help my case much. Instead I just looked back over at the girl as she twirled a curl of red hair around her finger. She was regarding me almost thoughtfully.

"It's weird," The red head continued. "Bubbles usually has such horrible taste. But you…well, I can hardly blame her."

"Listen," I said, my voice low. "We're just neighbors. She's engaged, remember?"

"Ha," Princess laughed dryly. "Like that matters. Women around here don't think twice about cheating. Most of the time it's with a pool boy or gardener, but some go to the city on the weekends…just to have something to do. It gets boring just sitting at home and letting all your pretty clothes go to waste."

I looked back over at Bubbles. Her hair was spilled over one shoulder, her collarbone bared and her slender neck was exposed. Her lips were smiling gently and her light blue eyes were watching her father as he talked to her across the table.

I knew Princess wasn't lying. Both men and women from uptown frequented the strip joints and shady gentlemen's clubs, looking for some side action. Cheating with people from the city was easy, because no one knew them and people from downtown rarely tried to keep a steady relationship. But…Bubbles wasn't that type.

Hell, she tried to convince herself that I hadn't tried to kiss her. If she'd been looking for a fling, she'd have found one by now. I hadn't exactly been discrete all the times I'd checked her out. She wasn't in the city for that kind of excitement.

"Don't think it's going to be a long affair though," Princess breathed near my ear. "Once she gets married she'll never talk to you again. She's too big of a pansy to keep up an ongoing affair. Once Andy and her tie the knot she'll be just another trophy wife. And you'll just be the boy she slummed it with once upon a time."

I took in a deep breath, trying to reign in my growing anger.

"But…" Princess's voice was closer. "If you want something more…_lasting_…I'm always available. I have a boyfriend, but of course he'll never have to know."

My chair banged loudly against the floor as I stood up in a violent rush. The room stilled and quieted at my sudden move. I ignored their questioning looks and stepped back around the chair. My eyes caught Mr. Utonium's.

"Excuse me," I said, my blank tone leaning a bit towards cold.

And then I walked out.

--

The warm water ran over my tensed muscles and I leaned back in the shower. My breathing was steadier, but still a little quick. The anger in my stomach boiled up and lodged in my throat but I did well to keep it in.

Once the maid had nervously escorted me back to my room I'd paced a bit. I'd almost left a few times, but always stopped myself. So, after a few minutes of cussing violently I decided to take a shower. I smelt like chlorine and I needed to relax.

I called that Princess bitch a few choice words as I scrubbed some shampoo into my hair. For some reason that girl had got me all pissed off. Her words had been like poison and I couldn't get what she'd said out of my system. I just kept repeating it in my head.

I knew Bubbles wasn't there for an affair. I wasn't dumb enough to actually believe that redheaded brat about that. Bubbles was too honest and naïve to have planned for that. She was there to try her hand at independence, that was all.

But the way Princess had worded it all made me feel so infuriated. Infuriated with myself, infuriated with her, and infuriated with Bubbles.

And I knew why.

It was the notion that Bubbles wouldn't talk to me after she and Andy got married that made me feel slightly sadistic. I didn't normally spend too much thinking about _Andrew_, but the idea that Bubbles would just go off with him and never look back was annoying as hell.

I didn't think I'd care. I never thought we'd stay in touch or anything like that. I wasn't into long distance or long term relationships, especially with girls I wasn't even sleeping with. So cutting ties hadn't really bothered me before.

But now…

Now I was getting attached or something. I felt slightly imprisoned at the idea of becoming attached to a girl. Commitment always sent me packing before, and I still felt a little edgy at the thought of being tied down. But there was no denying. I didn't want to share her. Not with anyone. I wasn't the type to share.

I wasn't the type to get left behind and forgotten, either.

I wasn't the type to get used.

And…and that was exactly what was going to happen to me. She was going to leave. She was going to get married. She wasn't going to look back, either. God, how had I not thought of that? How had I not realized _I_'d be the one left out in the dirt?

"No fucking way," I said angrily.

If Bubbles thought that was how it was going to happen, she was wrong. I didn't need her. I didn't need her sad excuse of a friendship or her short attention. I wasn't going to get any more attached to a girl who was just bored and rich.

I'd let myself slip. I'd let myself start to care for her. But not anymore. I was done with that. I was done with her.

I was Butch Sawyer.

I ran the backstreets and the alleys and the whole downtown area.

I didn't need a broad to string me along like a fool.

I didn't need to be treated like a frickin' punk with a gun.

I didn't need any of that.

And most of all, I didn't need her.

--

"Where are you going?" Bubbles's voice came from behind me.

I turned, pinning her with a glare that made her falter. I had Ace's car keys in my hand and my wet clothes under my arm. I pulled the guestroom door shut the rest of the way and moved to walk around her. The blonde wouldn't have any of that and quickly stepped before me.

"Butch," She said hastily. "What's going on? What's wrong with you?

"Move," I said harshly.

"No!" She said, suddenly less concerned and a bit angrier. "What is going on?"

"Move," I repeated again, this time stepping closer to her in a threatening manner.

She didn't step down and she stared defiantly up at me. Her blue eyes met mine and she bit her lip with anger.

"Stop being like this," She said, exasperated. "What happened? You seemed okay and then you suddenly stormed out. Did something go wrong?"

"Even if it did, it's none of your business," I said darkly.

"Of course it is, I'm your friend. I deserve-"

"No," I cut her off. "You're not my friend. You're nothing to me."

She stepped back, stunned and clearly hurt by my words. I ignored her pained expression and instead I brushed past her, making my way towards the steps. I didn't care if I'd insulted her. I didn't care about her at all.

"Butch, wait," She was gripping my arm, trying to pull me back.

"Let go," I said, tugged my arm but she wouldn't let go.

"No," She said with vehemence. "Would you calm down and talk to me?"

"Let. Go." I repeated slowly. Her grip only got tighter.

"Listen," She said hastily. "I don't know why you're acting like this. If you're mad at me, then I'm sorry for whatever I've done. But please, you can't just walk out like this. I don't even know what happened."

I glared down at her, feeling more then mildly upset. Couldn't she just let me leave?

"Butch," She continued, her eyes pleading with me and I looked angrily away. "I don't want you to leave. Talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

I felt my anger churn and I pulled away from her grasp and she let me go with surprise. I turned away and began walking towards the steps again. She followed after me, trying to keep up. I made my strides faster, longer.

"What about my apartment? What about all the stuff we're here to pick up?" She said to my retreating back. "You said you'd help me. Are you going back on your word?"

I stopped.

I looked back at her, knowing she was just trying to get me to stay. But I couldn't just leave if I promised to help her. I wasn't going to back down on my word. I'd follow through. But I didn't have to be happy about it. And it didn't mean I was okay with her again.

The sooner I got away from her the better.

"Just stay," She said quietly. "Please."

"We're leaving early in the morning," I told her, my voice tight. She looked relieved and my eyes narrowed. I didn't want her to think I was okay with her. I wasn't.

I didn't like her. I didn't want to talk to her. I didn't want to be near her. She was just using me until she was ready to get back to her real life. I wasn't going to be the idiot who got left behind. I wasn't going to let myself do anything of the sort.

"Okay," She said with apprehension.

"And when we get back," I said as I walked back towards my room. "You're going to stay with Mrs. Anderson. I want you out."

And with that I shut the door.

And I did my best to forget the betrayed expression on her face.

And the tears pooling in her eyes.

--

"Butch?" I woke up, hearing my voice being called. I pushed the thick blanket off me and turned to see Bubbles standing at the open door, bathed in darkness. It was either the middle of the night or extremely early in the morning, I couldn't tell. I'd been asleep for maybe a few hours.

"What?" I said, my voice thick with irritation and sleep.

"I know you're mad at me," She began.

"Then leave," I said roughly before turning back around on the bed and facing away from her.

I waited, thinking she'd put up some sort of fight or protest. But she didn't. I sighed, feeling annoyed. So much for the friendship thing she'd insisted we had. She sure gave up easily on that. It figured. I guess it really all was a simple case of boredom after all.

Suddenly I heard her footsteps drawing nearer. I frowned, thinking she had left. Soon she was on the other side of my bed and I watched her pull back the covers with conviction. My eyes narrowed at her intent and I scowled.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked coldly.

"Going to sleep." She said, equally as cold.

"Go to sleep in your own room," I demanded. She ignored me and crawled into the bed, pulling the covers back over her and laying on her back. I contemplated pushing her off the bed.

"I'm not leaving," She said, closing her eyes as if she were sleeping.

"Fine," I snapped, turning the other way and clenching my jaw.

"You're a jerk," I heard her whisper.

"Bitch," I muttered back.

Her fist hit my back dully and I rolled over and caught her wrist. She bit her lip and glowered at me, trying to yank her arm free. I held her arm painfully tight and she grimaced slightly. I fought the urge to loosen my grip.

"What's wrong with you?" She repeated for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked. "Why aren't you in your own bed? It's obvious I don't want you around."

"Yeah," She bit out. "That much is clear. What I'm trying to figure out is why you're so mad at me. I didn't do anything to make you this upset."

Technically she didn't, but that wasn't the point. The point was that in the end I was going to mean nothing to her, so I'd be damned if I let her mean something to me. She wasn't worth the effort. Truly, she wasn't.

"Sleep here for all I care," I said, ignoring her searching look. "Just stop bothering me."

"Fine," She whispered, hurt lacing her tone but she was trying her best to cover it up. "Be an ass, I don't care."

She rolled onto her stomach and buried her face into her pillow. I wasn't sure if she was crying or not, but her shoulder weren't heaving, so I figured she was just pissed. Not that I cared or anything. I just didn't need to hear her blubbering like a baby the rest of the night.

I rolled onto my back and glared at the ceiling.

It figures. I get her into bed with me, and this is how it is.

--

.

.

.

.

The car ride back to the city was filled with a stony silence. The mattress was bungeed into the back seat, her clothes and lamps in the trunk. Bubbles sat in the passenger seat, her legs crossed and her arms hugging herself. She glared moodily out the window. I did my best to pretend she wasn't even there.

Soon the buildings around us thickened and grew taller. I sped through the city streets towards our apartment building. I liked going fast normally and I loved speeding in Ace's car. Mostly because he hated when I did it.

After a few minutes I pulled up in front of our building. Mrs. Botstein was glaring at us from her typical spot on the porch as I shifted into park but I didn't care too much.

"Butch," Bubbles began, speaking to me for the first time since last night. I'd been ignoring her all day and she'd been following suit. It figured that she'd be the first to break it, though. "We have to talk about this. You can't just get mad at me and not tell me why."

"I'm not mad at you," I said, my tone calm and emotionless. "I'm through with you. Now get out."

"What?" She said, her voice hinting at her disbelief. Her blue eyes were wide and looking at me as if I were a monster. Maybe I was.

"What, did you honestly think I was just going to keep playing nice with you?" I asked sarcastically. "I tried to kiss you yesterday but it didn't work out. If you're not good for sleeping with, what good are you to me?"

My words hung in the air and she blinked, stunned. I tried to feel proud of myself. If I drove her off, then I wouldn't have to deal with her when she left. I wouldn't have to care. But somehow I just felt nothing. I wasn't proud. I was just sitting there, watching her try not to cry.

"I…I'm going to go stay with Mrs. Anderson," She mumbled. I said nothing and she fumbled to open the door. "I'll just get all this stuff later." She said, flinging the door open and beating a hasty retreat.

I watched her disappear into the building, her feet carrying her quickly away. I closed my eyes once she disappeared, trying to calm myself down. I couldn't tell if I was angry or annoyed now. It was probably both. But now it was mostly with my self.

A part of me screamed to follow her. It was the part that hated her to be by herself. The part that seemed to keep constant tabs on everything she did. I did my best to take no notice of it, though. It wasn't my place to look after her.

With jerky motions I shifted gears and pulled back into the street. I'd get her stuff upstairs later. For now I just needed to get out. I hit the gas and peeled out of there, speeding down the road as fast as I could.

--

"Are you aiming for the perfect attendance award?" Harper said jokingly as I walked into the garage. He was leaned over the engine of a worthless piece of crap car. Sometimes I wasn't even sure why people bother fixing cars like that up.

"What?" I asked.

"You've been coming to work every day for a little over a week now," He explained. "It's not like you. Most of the time you're out reeking havoc with your brothers and Ace. And today you even came early, what gives?"

I couldn't tell him the truth. I didn't even want to think about the truth. After all, I'd been going into work everyday to pick up some extra cash since Bubbles had been living with me. She didn't want to live off stolen money and I didn't want to look like I couldn't take care of her. So I'd been working my ass off.

But she didn't know that.

No one knew that.

And now I felt like a fool for doing it.

"There's nothing better to do," I told him dully.

"Well, if that's it, how about you hand me the socket wrench," He said, knowing I wouldn't talk if I didn't want to. He was the same way, so we both respected that part of each other's personality.

I grabbed the tool and handed it over. I looked over his shoulder at the engine and frowned. I could tell instantly what was wrong and I watched as Harper began to fix it. He'd taught me well, that was for sure.

"So," He said after about fifteen minutes of silence. "How's that blonde girl that came by here the other day?"

I said nothing and he looked at me over his shoulder. He nodded understandingly.

"Yeah," He sighed. "It figures. Did she move back uptown or did you drive her away?"

"How did you know she was from uptown?" I asked, mildly impressed.

"Please," Harper laughed a bit. "That girl practically defined class. Even in that ratty uniform she looked topnotch. It's not everyday a girl like that walks into a place like this."

"Yeah," I sighed. "Well, don't be expecting to see her again."

"So you drove her away?" He guessed.

"What makes you think that?" I asked irritably. "Maybe she drove me away."

"You're right, maybe that's what happened," He said in an appeasing tone. "I just assumed you got scared and pushed her away."

"I don't get scared," I said plainly. What was with people always assuming that I push others away?

"Girls like that always scared me," Harper shrugged. "Put me in front of any car and I'll know how to fix it and how to make it work. But put me in front of a classy girl…and I'd more than likely turn tail and run."

"Girls don't scare me," I said.

"Yeah, but commitment does, doesn't it?" He asked. I frowned at him. "Let me guess, you felt yourself getting attached to the girl, didn't you? And so you found the first excuse to get mad at her and went with it. Now you've pushed her so far away you can't even reach her."

"You don't know anything about it," I warned him, cursing myself when I realized I hadn't denied it.

"No," He said honestly. "I don't know much about it, but I know enough. I only had one chance at a real classy girl in my life. It was back when I was younger—better looking—and she had a flat tire. I drove her off though, and that was the end of that."

"You're mistake," I said with a bored front.

"Yeah," He said, nodding. "And it's your mistake if you let that blonde go too far. You know it, too. I can see it in your eyes. She got under your skin and it's killing you."

"She's engaged, remember?" I bit out quickly. "And weren't you the one who was warning me not to get involved with her in the first place? What happened to that?"

"Well, I figured this would happen. You were always too stubborn to let anyone too close, and I knew this girl would just send you on a ride," He sighed. "But now it's a bit too late. She's in your head, I can tell."

"And her fiancée?" I reminded him. "What am I supposed to do with him? I can't rub him out of the picture without her getting a little upset."

"Cut the sarcastic tone," Harper laughed. "Do you really feel threatened by the guy?"

I could wipe Andrew out in ten seconds flat, I knew that. But this wasn't about fighting. She loved him. And her family approved of him. And her whole society approved of them together.

"No," I said honestly. "But it's not like I want to replace him or be his substitute. I don't want to be the guy she gets with for a fling before she goes off and gets married. But I don't want to be engaged with her either."

Harper laughed. "Don't like being tied down, huh?" I frowned. "Well, maybe you could find the place in between. He can be out of the picture, you two could be together, and you wouldn't have to marry her. How does that sound?"

"Impossible," I said dryly. "Listen, just forget it. It's pointless. She's not worth the effort and it's over anyway. She'll get married and I'll be fine. I don't need some uppity girl on my arm. She's too much work anyway."

Harper frowned and turned back to the engine.

"Need me to work on another car?" I asked, looking around the garage.

"No," He said shortly.

I frowned. "What the hell, man?"

He turned and pinned me with a sour look. "If you're giving up now, then you're right. It's not going to work out between you and her. I figured you'd be the determined type but I was wrong. You can just join the rest of the wayward idiots and screw random broads every night for the rest of your life."

"Okay," I said, irritated but holding my own. "Fine. I'll do just that. Now can I work on a car?"

"No," He repeated.

"Why the hell not?" I asked.

"I don't need any help today," He said bluntly, but I knew he was lying.

"Don't need it, or don't want it?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't want it," He replied. "Now get out, you're pissing me off."

"Fine," I growled. "I'm gone."

"I thought you were a fighter, Butch!" He yelled after me. "What, can't you even win a simple battle for a girl? Does it scare you so much to actually start to like someone?"

I clenched my hands into fists and stormed out, ignoring his taunts and taking to the streets. I didn't need to be hassled. He was crossing the line if he was going to insult me like I was a kid. I didn't want to have to deal with that.

--

"What is that, your fourth drink?" A man on the barstool next to me asked.

I stared down into the amber liquid, silent.

"Take it easy," The man sighed, patting my shoulder as he stood up to leave.

I said nothing, slightly aggravated at being touched, but not saying anything. I took another swig of my beer and slammed it down onto the bar. The bartender looked over at me with a slight wariness and I ignored him.

It was now close to midnight. I'd spent the whole day at the bar, playing pool in the back. I'd won a couple hundred dollars and now I was planning to drink it all away. I wasn't drinking because I was upset or anything. It was more because I was bored. And there was nothing better to do.

"Well, look who we have here," A hand suddenly grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back off my barstool. I stumbled, gripping my beer bottle still, and caught my balance. I looked up to see about ten men surrounding me. Each had a blue skull tattoos across their faces.

"Damn," I muttered, straightening and clenching my fist. The bar had gone silent.

"If it isn't one of the Sawyer brothers," The man who grabbed me sneered. I looked at him, doing a bit of a double take. It was Grant Audley. The leader of the whole gang. He was staring at me, his face the picture of anger and his lips curled up in a sneer.

"Well, it's about time you showed up," I told him icily, my eyes watching him closely. "I was a bit tired of you sending your weak cronies to do your dirty work. I wasn't sure if you'd ever come out and fight like a man."

He shook his head slowly. "Butch Sawyer," He said lowly. "You, your brothers, and the Gang Greene Gang have been nothing but a thorn in my side. I'm sick of you and all your antics. It's over."

I was tense, my face blank and cold.

"But," He continued. "I'm not going to waste another breath or thought on you. You're not even worth it." He turned his back to me and began to walk out the door. "Boys!" He called out behind him. "Kill him!"

At once nine men charged at me. I bashed the closest with my beer bottle and sliced the next one with the remains. The both howled but weren't deterred. Someone tackled me from behind, sending the broken bottle flying. I got pinned to ground, shards of glass cutting into my cheek, stomach, and shoulder.

"Stupid prick," One of them sneered as I was kicked soundly in the ribs. I struggled to get out of the way but the brute on top of me wouldn't let me move an inch. The man from before kicked me in the ribs again. In the same spot.

Black dots filled my vision and I groaned as another kick landed in my side, surely snapped a rib or two.

The man on top of me laughed and grabbed a fistful of my hair, stood up, and yanked me up with him. The pain went through every part of me and two men grabbed my arms to keep me still before I could even breathe.

"You're going to regret crossing us," A man sneered into my face before he hauled back and smashed me across the face. My head flew to one side and I quickly jerked it back up and glared defiantly back at him, blood pouring from my split cheek.

"He thinks he's tough," Another smirked, pushing the other out of the way. The new one regarded me for a moment before driving a punch into my ribs that were freshly broken. I let out a string of curses and yanked hard against the grasp of my two captors.

They held fast.

"Not so tough now, huh?" He asked. I used my position to my advantage and raised my leg up high, kicking the man in nose. He flew back with the force of the kick and his head cracked against the ground, blood coming from his nose.

"Restrain him!" One of them shouted.

"We are," Idiot on my left arm yelled back.

"Not like that," A man came up. "Like this."

He tried to grab me quickly from Idiot on my left arm but the moment of slack was enough for me. I pulled my arm from him and threw a punch at the man holding my right arm. He let go in shock and stumbled back into the bar.

Ignoring the protest of my ribs I ducked a punch thrown at me and tackled the nearest guy. It became an all-out brawl as I tried hard to knock them all away. I banged two men's heads together, stepping over their slumped forms and dodging another punch.

I punched out with my left hand, fishing for the new knife I got with my right hand. I found it and whipped it out. But the fighters left standing had the same idea. All of them. And it was just my luck that each of them had a knife too.

Why did I leave my gun in the glove box of Ace's car?

"Get out of my bar!" The bartender finally yelled. God, where had he been?

From the corner of my eye I saw him produce a shotgun from under the bar and point it at each of us. I ignored him however, and watched the Audley Boys' knives gleam in the dim light of the room. I knew not to turn my back on them.

They didn't heed the bartender's yell and soon one of them lunged for me. I avoided his blade and sliced his arm pretty good. Another blade was aiming for my head and I curved away from it, and gave the guy a good knee to the stomach. He doubled over and I stepped back, trying to avoid the new onslaught.

"Out!" The bartender was yelling, but it was all a waste of hot air. No one gave a damn about him and his precious bar.

I managed to kick a blade away from one of the men and I cut him across his face, as he fell back. His skull tattoo turned red with his blood. I turned to keep on when a sudden burning sensation filled me. I stopped to realize that a blade had been stuck into my shoulder near my collarbone.

The man holding the blade twisted it a bit. I groaned and moved away, dislodging the metal from the body and it sliced me down my stomach as I moved. I punched the man so hard he spun and fell face forward into the ground.

"Out! Now!" Was the only warning we got before the bartender's last string of patience snapped and a crackle of gunshot echoed through the bar. It was a warning shot and the next one would be in one of us.

The Audley boys—the three of them left standing—hesitated. They new they were supposed to keep fighting me. It was obviously their orders. But none of them seemed too eager to get shot. I, on my part, wasn't too eager either. With their attention dwindling I turned and decked the nearest one. He fell and I pushed one of the ones left standing into the other, sending the last two scrambling into a pile on the floor.

Once they all were on the ground I split, a round of bullets hitting the door just as it slammed shut behind me.

--

I pulled up to Ace's house, my hands gripping the steering wheel tight. Blood was dripping everywhere, all over the seats and my clothes. The gash from my shoulder and across my stomach had bled nonstop the whole time I was driving and it was a wonder I didn't pass out.

With slow movements I opened the door and stepped out, my broken ribs and torn skin searing my whole body with pain. I ground my teeth together to keep from howling. I'd been cut before, but never this deep.

I sucked in a breath and walked towards Ace's door, trying my best not to hunch over.

"It's Butch!" I heard Snake yell, his lisp prominent as he opened the door. "He's hurt!"

Brick was the first out of the house, his red eyes looking me over. He seemed to grow pale at the sight of all my blood but his eyes were dark. He grabbed me around my shoulders and I hissed in pain but let him lead me into the house.

"What happened?" I heard Ace ask, as I was pushed back onto the leather couch. My blood coated the surface almost instantly despite my attempt to hold my skin together through my shirt. He'd have to buy a new one later. Good thing it was black though.

"I got cut," I said, my voice a lot stronger than it should've been.

"No shit," Brick said from my side.

"Go get some stuff to stitch him up, Boomer," Ace instructed. Boomer turned and ran into the kitchen as Ace turned to the rest of the gang. "My sister is out at Wednesday night church, go pick her up and get her to Mrs. Anderson. If something happens to her it's on you."

"Church?" I asked. "I might need a church soon. Or a grave."

"You need alcohol," Brick said in a leader tone. He grabbed a bottle of Vodka and pushed it to my lips. I drank it as quick as I could, the liquid burning my throat. "Come on Butch, drink up. You have to get numb."

"Shouldn't we bring Jazz back here?" Big Billy was asking Ace as they all pulled on their leather jackets. They were eyeing me, I could tell they didn't want to leave unless they were sure I'd be okay. "It's not safe outside tonight."

"She doesn't need to see this," Ace snapped and soon they all filed out of the house.

Boomer came back with some gauze, a needle, and some thread.

"Who's going to stitch him?" Boomer asked.

"I can't even thread a needle," Ace said, frustrated. He kept glancing over at me, making sure I didn't keel over.

"I can try," Brick said, finally giving up on getting me to drink any more vodka. The pain wasn't going to numb any time soon. I felt like I was going to throw up at the sight of all my blood everywhere. And I wasn't squeamish, so that's saying something.

"No, if you stitch him he'll look like Frankenstein's shit," Boomer refused.

"Well, you don't sew the skin up tight enough," Brick snarled. "We need him to stop bleeding."

Really, I appreciated that they got aggressive when they worried about me, but I was kind of bleeding to death.

"Shut up, I'll do it," I heard a voice from the steps. I turned to see Bubbles walking down the stairwell quickly, taking two steps at a time.

"What is she doing here?" I managed to get out.

"They tried to attack her this afternoon," Ace said, stepping aside to let her get near me. "Boomer brought her here when he couldn't find you."

I felt vaguely angry in the back of my mind. God, how could I have left her alone?

I watched her kneel beside me, her face pale and her eyes wide at the sight of my injuries. She was chewing her bottom lip aggressively as she pulled her hair up into a tie. I looked her over, despite the black dots that were insisting on clouding my vision.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, my throat feeling tight from the pain.

"No," She said simply. "There were only two of them."

She reached up and grabbed the needle and thread from Boomer and sat it beside her. Her expression was soft as she turned to me, ignoring all the blood and giving me a reassuring smile. I could tell it was forced though. The panic in her eyes was impossible to miss.

She was scared.

"Have you done this before?" Brick asked, hesitant to leave me in her care.

"Not on a person," Bubbles replied. "But I've been sewing since I was seven." Brick looked a bit relieved and stood up to hover over her shoulder. She turned and gave him a small smile. "Can I get some space?"

"Let's let Butch have some breathing room," Ace said as he grabbed my brothers and dragged them into another room, shutting the door.

"Okay," Bubbles' voice was shaky but her shoulders were set with determination. "First we have to get your shirt off, then we can stitch you up and stop the blood. Can you move at all?"

I made no noise as I sat up slowly, but inside my whole body was on fire. I felt bile rise in my mouth with the effort it took not to black out. Moving was definitely not the wisest choice on my behalf, but at least I'd managed to do it.

"Good," She praised softly. He hands grabbed the bottom of blood soaked shirt and began to pull it up.

"No," I said quickly. "My ribs are broken. I can't life my arms. You'll have to cut it off me."

She hesitated before reaching up and gripping the collar of my t-shirt with both hands. She leaned impossibly close and I let my head fall back against the top of the couch, too tired and nauseous to care was she was doing. Suddenly I heard the fabric rip and I realized she had to use her teeth the get the tear started.

She leaned back, pulling the shit apart down the front to expose my chest. I heard her sharp intake of breath at the sight. She pushed my shirt out of the way and grabbed quickly for the needle and thread. It was about damn time, too. These people were acting like I was bleeding for fun.

"This will hurt," She said, her tone downright scared.

"It's okay," I said to assure her, not myself. I already knew it was going to make me want to scream.

I watch her thread the needle and get onto her knees. I was leaned back so she leaned forward to reach me. Her small fingers delicately pinched my skin together at my hipbone. I guess that's where the diagonal cut ended.

"So, when did you get the raven tattoos?" She asked, just for the sake of distracting me.

"When I was fifteen," I said, wincing as the needle entered my skin.

"Why ravens?" She asked, her face concentrated and her fingers deftly threading my skin back together.

"Why not?" I asked. She looked up and me and caught my weak smirk. She smiled back and shook her head.

"Okay," She said, continuing to work. The wound was jagged so she was having to weave in and out at odd angles. "How many tattoos do you have?"

"Plenty," I answered with a slight hitch in my tone. I closed my eyes, pain making me almost gag. "What about you? Any tattoos?"

She laughed prettily. "No. My sister Buttercup has one on her ankle, but I chickened out and didn't get one."

"Well," I tried to keep talking, hoping to forget about the gruesome stitch job. "They aren't for everyone." She just laughed and I swallowed. "So, are you sure the Audley Boys didn't hurt you? Did Boomer make sure they were knocked out of commission?"

"He didn't have to," Bubbles said and I opened my eyes to see her frown. "I did it myself. There were only two of them and I heard them coming. I was in my apartment, straightening up. There's a lot of stuff you can throw in there."

"You beat them up?" I asked, my tone laced with approval. She blushed and kept watching her hands as they worked.

"I threw a piece of pipe at one of them," She responded. "And the other one got sprayed in the eyes with air-freshener."

"Impressive," I said, gritting my teeth as she strained to get my skin back together. It was getting harder to do the closer she got to the large wound near my shoulder. "And Boomer came in too late to help, I'm assuming."

"He did fine," She said sternly. "You should be nicer to him, he tries. He's the one who brought me here."

I was trying to forget that little detail. As much as I as grateful to Boomer for getting her out of trouble, I was oddly pissed at him. Mainly because it wasn't me who had done it. I mean, I should have been watching over her. Who cared I was mad at her? I knew there was a reason I hated when I couldn't see her.

"So," She said, just as she began to stitch up the skin over my heart. I was really luck the wound there was shallow or I'd be in actual hell instead of just in a world of pain on Ace's couch. The cut had missed all the vital organs. "Are you still mad at me?"

"I don't think I was ever mad at you," I said simply.

"Oh really?" She said with a hint of irritation. "Because I could've sworn that was you this morning who wouldn't even talk to me unless it was to cut me down."

I quickly tried to appease her. It wasn't smart to let the person stitching you up get angry with you. "I wasn't mad at you," I said to her. "I was mad at myself over something stupid. Just forget it. It wasn't a big deal."

"It was a big deal to me," She said, hurt. "You were so rude and-"

"I know I hurt you," I told her. I found I preferred the stitching to this conversation. "But I wasn't thinking when I said that stuff."

"It hurt all the same," She said, her face very close to mine as she drew closer to my shoulder. I could see the dark blue rim around her irises and a small freckle near her right eyebrow. I did my best to focus on that and not the pain.

"I'll make it up to you," I told her after another sharp sting of pain.

"How?" She asked.

"I don't know yet," I answered. "But I will."

She let out a sigh and her breath smelled like peaches.

"Fine," She said with a bit of irritation. "Does that mean you're still kicking me out or not?"

"Not," I said.

She chewed on her lip and brought her hands up to tie off a knot in the string. She was done. She pulled back and looked at her work, her fingers lightly tracing the jagged line of thread that was patching me back together. I looked down, following her fingers with my eyes. The stopped at my hipbone before she pulled them back to her lap.

"Don't scratch at them," She instructed. "Or they'll come lose and then we'll have to clean you up and do it all over again."

I nodded, shrugging painfully out of what was left of my shirt. She grabbed it and tossed it behind her, seemingly eager to get rid of the bloody mess. My skin was still slick with blood though, and I noticed morbidly that she was covered in it too.

"We need to wash up the cut on your cheek," She said, standing up. "And get some ice for your ribs, too."

I groaned and leaned heavily back against the couch. I was tired and cold. Really cold. I couldn't tell if it was from the blood loss or from the lack of a shirt in the chilly fall weather. We were near a window after all.

"Betty," I said, my ribs throbbing as I reached up and caught her arm. I pulled her and she plopped awkwardly down bedside me. I think she looked a bit confused but my vision was blurring a bit so I couldn't really tell.

"Yeah?" She asked.

I reached over, my scuffed and bloody fingers weaving into the hair on the nape of her neck. I pulled her closer to me; her light blue eyes watched me with a mixture of curiosity and what seemed to be acceptance.

I hurt everywhere. Pain shot through my very core. I was bloody and weakened and tired and cold. But she was warm. And a crushed my lips to hers, hungrily. This kiss tasted of peaches and blood and something sweet. A trail of blood worked its way down my cheek and my other arm found a way to wrap around her back, the pain not even able to stop me.

I kissed her like I was dying.

I kissed her like it was all I knew how to do.

I groaned into her mouth and held her tighter through the pain.

And she tasted so sweet.

And she smelled so good.

And she felt perfect against me.

And I didn't feel like stopping.

Because, all the while, she was kissing me back.

--

_You've been given all I have;  
When you come around, I seem to give in.  
In a fight, I'll never win,  
'cause all the while, you're my favourite sin_

_--_

…**..Hoorah? **


	14. Fields Of Gold

_You'll remember me when the west wind moves  
Among the fields of barley  
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky  
When we walked in fields of gold_

--

I'd kissed three other boys before I met Andrew. Each kiss was one of those shy, nervous kisses that relayed our innocent relationships. Andrew was the first boy who ever really kissed me. Kisses with Andy were always chaste and sweet and completely loving.

I could kiss Andy all day and always feel happy.

Butch, however, was unlike any boy I'd ever kissed before. There was no thinking involved while kissing him, only impulses. My heart beat quicker at the feel of his lips against my own and my skin was warm and sensitive to every touch and move. It was obvious that he was skilled in the area of kissing, and it was all I could do to try and keep up.

Butch was slowly lowering me back against the leather couch, one hand on my back, the other supporting my head. His movements were sluggish with pain and his lips worked against mine fervently. His kisses were hungry and incessant. I could taste the metallic tang of his blood on my tongue, the sweet mint of his breath, and the faint tinge of alcohol.

My own hands moved on their own accord, one reaching up and threading into his black hair and the other resting on his uninjured hip. His hair was soft against my fingers and I pulled gently at it. I heard him groan, but weather it was from the kiss or from the pain his movements were causing him, I couldn't tell.

His teeth raked against my lips and my body shivered against him. My lower stomach practically ached with an unknown desire and lifted my hips up with need to press myself closer to him.

I realized, somewhere in the back of my mind, that what I was doing was wrong. Very, very wrong. After all, I was engaged. And in love. So why, dear lord, was I letting another man kiss me? And why was I kissing him back as if what I was doing wasn't so horrible?

Butch's lips suddenly moved away from my own bruised ones as he began kissing other places, distracting me from my vague thoughts. He pressed his lips against my cheek, my jaw, my neck, my collarbone. His body pressed down against my own, his elbow keeping him up so that he wasn't completely crushing me. I gasped out lightly, my eyes closed as he trailed kissing against my skin.

Usually I was ticklish, but this…this felt good.

"Butch," I said softly.

He didn't answer or stop. He merely went back up to kissing my lips and I joined back in, my tongue coming into play and battling with his own. God, he tasted so good. Men shouldn't be allowed to taste so good. And my mind felt fuzzy and my body felt warm all over. My hand on his hip began to lightly trail up his back. His bare skin was warm and smooth and taunt against his muscles, and I loved the feel of it.

Suddenly Butch hissed and pulled away. I opened my eyes to see that his face was still very close to my own. His tan skin was slightly ashen from blood loss, his cheek bloody and swollen, and his lips were chapped. His green eyes were widened with the shock of pain and his breath was quick against my skin.

"I'm so sorry," I said quickly, realizing that I had accidentally brushed a broken rib. "Oh, god, I'm sorry." I repeated, this time meaning something entire different. I swallowed, wishing desperately that I could rewind the past few minutes.

He seemed to try and say something but his breathing was still slightly ragged. Too ragged to have been caused by a kiss. I noticed small beads of sweat gather at his temples. He was gritting his teeth together.

"Oh god, Butch!" I said, my voice quite upset. I hastily sat up, pushing him gently back off me as I did. I needed to stop touching him, I knew that, but his pain was too apparent to ignore. "You're hurting yourself." And he was. His every move, his every breath seemed to be causing him pain. Why hadn't he just stopped?

"It's okay," He said roughly. "It's just my ribs. They're making it hard to move too much."

"You need a doctor," I said, my voice urgent.

"No," He said tonelessly. "I'm fine."

"This is fine?" I snorted. "You almost bled to death!"

"But I didn't," He countered.

"That's not the point!" I snapped.

"Could you just shut up? I said I'm fine," His confident tone was pretty much pointless given the fact that he was panting with pain and covered in his own blood.

"Yeah, well, I don't believe you," I crossed my arms and glared at him. "You need a doctor!"

Butch's cold expression darkened. "I said-"

"Are we interrupting something?" Ace's voice silenced Butch and caused me to jump. I looked over to see him, Boomer, and Brick standing a few feet away, watching us. Ace and Boomer had amused looks on their faces. Brick was just assessing Butch, looking slightly relieved that his brother was still breathing.

"Ack!" I squeaked, a bit surprised to see them. I had kind of forgotten they were in the house…which is bad seeing as it was Ace's house. "Don't do that!"

"Don't do what?" Ace smirked.

"Scare me like that," I grumbled. How long had they been standing there?

"Sorry kid," Ace winked. "We're naturally scary people, we can't help it."

"You feel okay?" Brick cut in. He was watching Butch.

"Yeah," Butch said sarcastically. "I feel fan-fuckin'-tastic."

"Of course you do," Ace said slyly, ignoring Butch's sarcastic tone. "You had a pretty little nurse here to fix you up. I'd feel pretty good too if I was in your shoes."

I felt my face heat up and I averted my eyes. Butch muttered something profane beneath his breath.

"I…I have to go wash up," I said, mortified and practically squirming beneath the stares of all the men. I stood up hastily and moved towards the steps, avoiding Butch's gaze at all costs. When I stepped up next to Brick I paused briefly. "Have him wash out the cut on his cheek. And get some ice for his ribs."

The taller boy looked down at me. He had dark red eyes that were unsettling and his mouth was scowling ever so slightly. His rusty hair was wild around his face without the restraint of a hat. He looked me over before nodding. "Okay." Was all he said.

I bit my lip and turned from them. I gripped the railing and practically flew up the stairs, intent on getting away. Once I was upstairs I walked across the landing pushed open the door to the bathroom. It was small and slightly dirty but I hardly noticed.

"Oh god," I whispered, shutting the door behind me and locking it.

I looked in the mirror, horrified at my own appearance. My hair was pulled up into a ponytail and looking slightly ratty. I had blood all over my shirt and hands from the stitch job I'd just preformed. My blue eyes were wide and rimmed with red from stress and panicked tears I'd held back.

How had Ace called me pretty? How had Butch even stomached the idea of kissing me?

My fingers rose up and touched my swollen lips, the thought of kissing Butch making them tingle slightly. I could still taste him on my tongue. I was still warm all over. There was blood smeared lightly on my cheek from the wound on his face.

"Oh Bubbles, you idiot," I groaned before shutting the toilet seat and sitting on top of it. I buried my face and my hands and shut my eyes tight. "You just kissed another man."

Guilt bubbled in my stomach and tightened my throat. How could I do that to Andy? How could I be so heartless? I loved Andrew and this was what I was doing behind his back! What was I thinking? I was no better than a…a harlot.

"And I liked it, too," I said, completely grossed out with myself.

I stood up, feeling anxious. I paced in the small bathroom, wishing to be far away from this house. Far away from Butch. I didn't deserve to be engaged, and I didn't deserve to like the kiss. I needed to leave. I needed…

…to wash up.

I turned the sink on, intent on ridding myself of all the blood. It was as if getting rid of the blood would erase the kiss. I scrubbed hard at my hands, turning my sink pink as the blood slowly rinsed off. My engagement ring was dirty too and I felt tears spring to my eyes at the sight of the bloody diamond. I tried my best to wash it off but I couldn't seem to get the setting clean.

I looked back at myself in the mirror.

I was still a mess.

Feeling panicked I quickly unbuttoned my blood-stained blouse and threw it in the trashcan. My shirt underneath wasn't practical for the cold weather but it was slightly less dirty. There were bruises on my wrist from my run-in with the Audley Boys earlier that day. I'd lied to Butch and told him that they hadn't hurt me, but the blue and purple skin proved otherwise.

I felt I deserved the bruises.

"Oh Andy, what would you think if you could see me now?" I whispered to my disarrayed reflection. Tears pooled in my eyes, I was still marred with blood, my wrist was bruised, and I had just finished kissing another man.

This wasn't me. I didn't know who the person staring back at me was. I was a spoiled girl from uptown, I didn't do stuff like this. I was better than all of this. I shouldn't even be here. I should be warm and safe and clean in my own home.

I had to leave.

I couldn't stand even looking at myself.

--

I slipped out of the bathroom, careful not to let the door squeak. I could hear Ace and Boomer's boisterous voices as they talked downstairs. I looked at the shut doors in the hallway, wondering how I was going to get out without anyone noticing me. Jumping from a two-story window wasn't preferable but I was feeling almost desperate enough to do it.

"Going somewhere?" I heard someone ask. I spun fast to see Brick leaning against a wall. He was bathed in shadows, his red eyes practically shining with a light of their own. I swallowed, feeling unsettled by his gaze again.

"I-I need to leave," I said, my voice shaking.

"You shouldn't be off by yourself," He said gently.

"I just have to go, okay?" I felt my tears rise up again. "Please."

He sighed and pushed away from the wall. He stepped towards me and I stepped backwards on instinct. He noticed my skittish movements and frowned. I shifted beneath the crimson of his eyes. I just wanted to leave.

"Where are you going?" He asked, ignoring my odd behavior.

"My fiancé's house," I mumbled.

Brick raised an eyebrow. "Huh," He grunted. "You're going to see your fiancée now? Right after you kissed my brother and left him on the couch bloodied and beat? That's a little fast, don't you think?"

I blushed, feeling the need to cry. So they'd witnessed our kiss after all. What must they think of me? "Is he alright?" I asked, having nothing else to say. My worry for the wounded boy downstairs seemed to surpass my guilt about my precious actions.

"He's asleep now," Brick shrugged. "He lost too much blood to stay awake."

"I didn't mean to kiss him," I said suddenly. "I shouldn't have done it."

"You should probably just forget about it," Brick said in monotone. "It more than likely meant nothing."

"A kiss always means something," I replied, my voice cracked. A hot tear trailed down my cheek.

"Hey, don't cry," Brick hastily insisted. "Really, it's okay. I didn't mean to upset you. All I meant was that Butch was a bit drunk and a little out of it due to blood loss—it wasn't a big deal. It's nothing to get all teary-eyed about."

"Yeah," I sniffed. "But _I_ wasn't drunk _or_ hurt. I should've known better."

"Yeah, you should have," He agreed, failing to find the words to calm me down.

"You aren't helping," I practically sobbed. "I feel bad enough already."

"Well, if a kiss always means something, what did this one mean?" He asked, shifting awkwardly in front of my tear-stained face.

"I don't know," I shook my head. "He was hurt and he's been so good to me…and…I wasn't thinking. If Butch was in his right mind he wouldn't have kissed me, I'm sure. And…I should have realized what was happening sooner and stopped him."

"Here's the deal," Brick began to explain, sounding a lot like Blossom when she used her leader-ish tone. "I usually stay out of Butch's personal life, but I don't like people who screw around with my family. If you're just bored and messing around-"

"Stop it!" I begged. "Why does everyone assume I'm just bored? I'm not here because I'm bored or playing games. I genuinely want to be friends with Butch. I didn't want anyone to get hurt and I didn't mean to make anyone upset."

Brick sighed and assessed me. He seemed to take pity on me because his scowl slackened and he uncomfortably patted my shoulder. I looked miserably away and willed my tears to stop. There's nothing more pathetic than crying in front of a man you barely know.

"Okay, okay," He shushed. "It's alright, kid."

"But it's not," I whispered.

"Let's just say that the kiss was done out of panic and fear, okay?" He continued. "And we'll all just forget it happened. Your little fiancé doesn't even have to know."

It didn't matter if Andrew knew. I'd know, and that's all that mattered. Butch might not have been able to think reasonably when he kissed me, but I could've.

I bit my lip, shadows of the hallways playing across our forms and cloaking the older Sawyer brother. "Why are you being so nice?"

He seemed to shrug, the headlights from a car passing by outside lit up the hallway. In the sudden pale light I saw he was frowning and looking down the stairs in thought. His rusty hair was disheveled. I wondered, vaguely, how all three brothers could turn out so beautiful. It hardly seemed fair.

"Butch doesn't seem to like it when you're…distressed," He said, thoughtful. "And despite the mess of this situation, I think the kiss isn't that much a priority right now. You need to be worried about your safety, and you can talk everything out with Butch when he's feeling better."

I pushed his hand away from my shoulder and wiped my cheek, trying to clear away the tears. I smiled softly at his consoling. "Do you really think I could get Butch to sit down and talk to me?" I asked, amused at the thought.

Brick smiled. "Yeah, I guess that's not exactly his style. But if anyone can get him to talk, it'd be you."

I said nothing, feeling unsure of how I supposed to respond to that. But he was sadly right. Stressing and fretting wouldn't do me any good now, no matter how guilty I felt. Once Butch was better, I needed to talk to him. Then, maybe, I could figure everything out.

If the kiss really meant nothing to Butch like Brick assumed, then it was all for the better. It still wouldn't make things right, but it'd be slightly easier. And if it really was all a mistake, then I could try my hardest to pretend that it meant nothing to me.

Even if it was very hard to ignore the way my lips still tingled.

And my blood still pumped.

And my stomach coiled with warmth.

Yeah….maybe I could just forget about the whole thing.

_Right_.

--

Brick was talking to Ace and Boomer in the kitchen. I could hear bits of their conversation but the door muffled most of it. Brick was telling them that he was taking me to my apartment. Boomer was protesting and Ace didn't seem too sure of the choice either.

I could hear them talking about the Audley Boys. I remembered how scared I was when two of them had walked into my apartment earlier. I felt so scared that I was almost sick to my stomach. It was the adrenaline that had saved me though. I'd been able stop them both…a feet I was secretly proud of.

It seemed, however, that the men in the other room weren't too sure of my ability to protect myself. I knew there was a slim chance of me leaving. It figured.

I sighed and walked into the small living room, away from the kitchen door. My eyes immediately landed on the sleeping boy on the couch. Butch's stomach was still smeared with blood but his color looked slightly better. I watched the rise and fall of his chest and realized that he was having a slight difficulty breathing.

"Oh Butch, you poor thing." I muttered, looking at his swollen and bruised skin. "You need to get better soon," I whispered to him as I drew nearer. I hesitated before I sat on the edge of the coffee table, watching him with a bit of reproach. "Once you get better we have a lot to talk about."

"That's not much incentive for me to wake up," Butch's voice made me jump. His tone was rough and low, from both the sleep and the pain no doubt. I looked at his face to see his eyes still shut as if he were sleeping.

"How long have you been awake?" I asked, blushing like an idiot.

"Only for a little while," He replied, his voice still sluggish with sleep. He kept his eyes closed as if he were too exhausted to attempt opening them.

"Do you need anything?" I asked, my hands fidgeting in my lap.

"No," He said, his lips barely moving to form a small smirk.

"Do want me to go get your brothers and Ace?" I asked, feeling awkward to be alone with him. My skin burned just being this near to him. It was as if I were on fire at the mere thought of kissing him. "They're in the kitchen talking, I can just go get them real quick."

"No," He said again. We were silent for a moment and I trained my eyes elsewhere. "What are they talking about?"

I shifted and looked back at him. His eyes were opened now and watching me closely. He looked so controlled and strong, even covered and blood and lying pliant on a couch. I couldn't imagine having that kind of strength. It stole my breath away.

"Betty," He pushed. "What are they talking about?"

I realized he probably felt left out. He undoubtedly was used to being a part of their decisions. Being injured didn't suit him at all.

"They're wondering if it's safe to take me back to the apartment," I shrugged.

"It's not," He said, his voice suddenly harsh.

"I'll be fine," I rolled my eyes. "I can take care of myself, remember? I already faced two Audley Boys today and I got out just fine!"

His eyes flitted briefly over my body and I mentally cursed, remembering my bruises. They didn't go unnoticed to Butch either. His mouth got tight and his eyes darkened almost dangerously when his eyes landed on my wrist. I sat still, too proud to cover them up.

"You said they didn't hurt you," His tone was cold, but I realized he wasn't mad at me. No, his anger was definitely not aimed at me. The way his eyes stayed trained on my wrists proved that point.

"It's just a couple of bruises," I replied. "Besides, there's nothing you can do about it anyway. You're hurt."

His cheeks darkened with anger and his eyes narrowed up at me. I realized I'd said the wrong thing and I immediately wished I'd said something else. I opened my mouth to take it back but suddenly he was straining and wincing as he struggled to sit up.

"Lay back down!" I reprimanded. "You're going to start bleeding again!"

He was ignoring me and soon he was sitting up, his face cold and not revealing his pain. I watched him, fearing his stitches would snap. He let out and shaky breath and leaned towards me, our faces drawn close together.

"You can't lie to me, Bubbles," He said, his voice a quiet baritone. I felt my body stiffen at the sound of my real name. I decided I liked the way he said my name. "You have to tell me if someone hurts you, okay?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter," I said lightly.

"Don't you get it?" He said almost softly. "It does matter. If you get hurt, it matters."

"Why?" I asked, looking away from his face and fixing my eyes down at my lap. I felt my guilt bubble up again and I knew I needed to get away. He was entirely too enticing.

His large hand reached out and stilled my own as the twisted nervously in my lap. His hand was calloused and bloody and big. I blinked down at it, but didn't pull away.

"I'm going to look out for you," He said roughly. "And if someone hurt you, then I'll make them pay. I don't care if I'm hurt. No one will get away with hurting you."

"I don't need you to look out for me," I told him stiffly.

"Too bad," He said coldly.

"What can _you_ do?" I asked, unconvinced and wary of him. "A lot of people are getting hurt and it's bound to happen to me. There's nothing you can do."

He laughed at that and I glared at him, insulted.

"What can I do?" He repeated, amusement tinting his words. "Baby, you'd be surprised."

I rolled my eyes and pulled my hands away from his. Sometimes I forgot he was capable of those sly perverted remarks. I crossed my arms and sent him a withering glare that only seemed to amuse him more. How could I go from being nervous and anxious around him to being completely mad?

"You're an ass," I muttered.

"Yeah," He agreed, leaning back against the couch with a slight wince.

"Why do you want to protect me anyway?" I asked, curious despite myself. "Don't you have better things to do?"

"Nothing comes to mind," He smirked.

I opened my mouth to mouth to argue some more when he suddenly winced and grabbed at his stitches. I blinked, shocked at his sudden movement and worried. I shifted to lean closer and was glad to see there was no blood coming from the closed wound.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," He gritted out between clenched teeth. "I just breathed in too deep."

"Lay down," I said softly and amazingly enough he complied. Once he was lying back down he closed his eyes again, obviously tired from his movements. "Please don't hurt yourself. I don't think I can stitch you up again. I could barely stomach it the first time."

He smirked.

"I could live without repeating that experience as well," He said dryly and I smiled softly.

I shifted, wondering if it was a good time to talk about the kiss. It was weighing on my mind and I felt as if I should say something. But Butch wasn't in the state to be talked to and I wasn't sure what I'd say anyway. I'd have to talk to him about it later.

"Thanks," I said after a moment of quiet. Butch was resting but I knew he wasn't asleep.

"For what?" Butch asked in his hoarse, deep voice.

"For wanting to protect me," I said, slightly embarrassed. "Even if I don't need it…it's still nice."

Butch opened his eyes and appraised me. "Yeah, don't mention it." He said finally, his voice emotionless. I noticed his cheeks were still slightly flushed. I smiled genuinely at him and he watched me for a moment before closing his eyes again.

After a minute I stood up, feeling restless and useless as I stared at his injured form. I probably needed to find Brick and hurry him along. Maybe I could help him convince Ace and Boomer that I could leave.

"Betty," Butch's voice halted me and looked back at him. I noticed he was back to his nick-name for me and I slightly missed the sound of my real name on his tongue. "You don't have to go back to him. I can take care of you."

I frowned. "Go back to who?"

He didn't answer. He was already asleep.

I sighed and walked back towards the kitchen, refusing to think about his cryptic comment. I needed to be away from him, I knew that was for sure. I needed to be far, far away.

--

Brick drove me back to my apartment building. The ride in his 1965 Comet was comfortable, albeit a little awkward. Brick was more used to talking, unlike Butch, but we didn't have much to say to each other. He was nice to me because Butch was my friend, but it was obvious that he wasn't extremely fond of me.

On a later date I'd have tried to make friends with him, but I was tired, and dirty, and extremely exasperated with myself. All those years of learning to be polite weren't as useful as I'd hoped.

"I'll walk you up," He said as he parked. "After you change clothes, I'll drive you to your fiancé's house."

"Thanks," I mumbled, opening the car door and piling out. The cold air greeted me and I shivered.

We made our way upstairs in silence. No one else seemed to be awake in the whole building and I wondered what time it was. Usually people were always out and talking and walking around. It'd seemed I'd lost track of time.

Once in front of my apartment we both stopped, hesitating.

"I never got to move back into my apartment," I explained lamely. "I was supposed to do that today. I was setting up for it when the Audley Boys showed up."

Brick's gaze shifted quickly to the bruises on my wrist before he frowned and nodded.

"You've been staying with Butch?" Brick guessed smartly. I blushed and looked away, confirming is guess. "Are your clothes in his apartment?"

"Only one outfit," I shrugged. "The rest was in Ace's car. I forgot to grab it."

Brick nodded and moved in front of his brother's door. He grabbed a pick from his back pocket and I stood back as he worked the lock. Soon I heard the tell-tale click and watched the door creak open. It was dark inside the apartment.

"Shower and change your clothes," Brick instructed. "Your fiancé will probably call the cops if he sees you like that. I'll wait out here until you're done."

I thanked him softly before pushing past and walking into the apartment. I heard him close the door to a thin crack and I got to work. He was right. I hadn't really thought of what Andrew would do at the sight of me, but now I realized it wouldn't be pretty. I quickly began to get ready, a low sense of dread filling me.

Because I wasn't exactly sure what I'd be telling Andy when I got there.

What was there to say?

--

I was clean as we drove uptown towards Andrew's house. He still lived with his parents in their large home near the golf-course. He was planning to move out when we got married, just as I had originally planned. But then I decided to move to the city.

That changed everything, didn't it?

"Thanks for driving me," I said uncomfortably to Brick. He was driving a calm speed, unlike the way Butch broke every speed limit. It was odd but I liked the way Butch drove. It was scary, but exciting as well. Just like him.

"Don't mention it," Brick said, his mind obviously elsewhere. I didn't need to be physic to realize why he was so distracted.

"Are you worried about Butch?" I ventured out. Of course he was worried about his brother! He was unconscious and badly hurt when we left him! I'd be freaking out if that was on of my sisters. And here I was, making him drive me all the way uptown.

Brick opened his mouth to respond, then shut it.

"I'm worried about him too," I filled in, ignoring his lack of response. I was used to silence from his brother.

"Are you?" Brick shot back suddenly. My eyes widened and my stomach tightened with the familiar feel of guilt. I blinked over at his terse profile, illuminated by passing car lights. He was frowning sharply, his skin a pale yellow in the poor street lights, his eyes blood-red.

"Yes," I said softly. I felt insulted and defensive, but I had no right to show these feelings. I knew how this whole situation must look, and it wasn't pretty. I couldn't claim innocence now. I was in the wrong.

"Hey," Brick said, looking over at me. "If you like Butch, I can just turn the car around. He probably hasn't woken up yet. We can go back to Ace's house and he'll never have to know. You don't have to do this, okay?"

"Don't have to do what?" I laughed tiredly. "Go see my fiancé?"

"Yeah," Brick said earnestly. "Just stay in the city. We'll take care of you there. You can forget about-"

"No," I broke in, my tone stony. "I can't forget. It's not possible. I'm grateful to you for all you've done, truly I am, but I'm sorry. I just can't forget all my friends, my family, and my fiancé in order to live in the city forever. It's just not possible."

"But you don't need them," Brick argued. "And you obviously aren't happy." I opened my mouth to protest but he cut me off. "If you were happy, you wouldn't have kissed Butch."

"I told you," I defended myself. "I don't know why I kissed Butch, okay?"

"Bull-shit," He sneered. "You kissed him because you like him."

"But I can't like him!" I shouted, startling him and making his eyes widen. "God, don't you people remember that I'm engaged?"

Brick rolled his eyes. "But you do like him, don't you?"

I looked out the window, defiant.

"Yeah," Brick said distantly. "I thought so."

--

Brick had already sped away by the time I reached the top of the porch steps. I stood cautiously on the cobblestone porch for a few moments, wondering what I was supposed to do next. The cold wind played with my wet hair and moved the fir trees around me. I shivered and decidedly stepped towards the large glass door.

After two knocks a maid bustled to the door and began unlatching the locks. She was dressed in a night robe and her hair was tied up. I winced, realizing she must've been sleeping. What time was it again? I'd forgotten to look at the clock in the car.

"Can I help you?" The maid asked, eying me sleepily.

"Um, yes, I'm so sorry to wake you," I said quickly. "I was just wondering if I could see Andrew." _And if I could come in out of the freezing cold…_

She didn't notice my shivering, however. She just frowned softly and tilted her head, trying to see how she recognized me. I hoped she realized who I was and let me in soon.

"Mr. Bussey is asleep right now," She informed me properly. "If you would come back tomorrow-"

"No," I said quickly. She looked startled by my outburst. "I mean, no ma'am. I really need to see him right now. Could you please wake him? Tell him that his fiancé is here. He'll come downstairs. I know he will."

She raised her eyebrow. "You're Bubbles Utonium?" She asked, a bit shocked. "I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you."

I looked down at my ratty jeans and soft t-shirt. Yeah, I guess I did look a little more disheveled and plain then all the other times I came here. But honestly, did that matter? I was cold and really just wanted to get inside. I could feel the heat from the crack of the door.

"It's okay," I smiled. "Could you please go get him?"

She nodded and moved aside to let me in. I stepped into the foyer and sighed with relief. I rubbed my arms, trying to stop my chill. The maid eyed me curiously before walking towards the grand staircase and going upstairs to get Andrew.

I looked around at my lavish surroundings. I'd been to Andrew's house a lot in my life, and everything seemed so familiar. I carefully reached out and touched the arm of a marble statue near me. The surface was smooth against my fingers.

"Is this it?" I asked myself, looking around the gorgeous home. "Is this what I want?"

I didn't let myself think about it, slightly fearful of what my answer would be. This was the life I've always known. Grand and gorgeous and rich and safe. It felt frightening to even think of anything else. I'd entertained ideas of city life and moved there, but no one ever thought it'd be for good. I hadn't even considered anything else. After all, what was my life without money and parties and diamonds and—

"Andrew!" I said at the sight of him.

He was coming down the steps, his eyes wide and sleepy and his hair mussed from rest. It was the first time I'd ever seen him even slightly disheveled and the sight shocked me slightly. He was wearing simple blue silk night clothes and his feet were bare against the cold marble floor.

"Bubbles?" He asked, walking towards me with a worried smile. He seemed a bit confused of why I was there, but I could understand that. Dropping in on someone at this ungodly hour was definitely not proper etiquette.

"Hello," I said with a bit of dithering. The idea of talking to him was one thing, but actually doing it was another. What was I supposed to say?

"I wasn't sure if I heard the maid right," He grinned a bit as he reached me. "What on earth are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

"Yes," I answered quickly. But then I hesitated and looked away from his big, searching eyes. "I mean—no. No, everything is not okay."

The skin on Andrew's hands was soft as he lightly touched my cheek. I fiddled with my own hands behind my back. They were worn and slightly calloused from the work at the diner. I wasn't sure why that bothered me, but it did.

"What's wrong?" He asked kindly. "Do you need something? Money?"

I let out a startled laugh. "Why would I need money?"

He smiled bashfully. "Well, I was trying to think of what would so important that you'd drop in so unexpectedly."

"Money isn't that important," I told him, but the words felt weird on my own tongue. Here I was in a mansion, talking to my rich fiancé and I was saying that money wasn't important? Surely he thought I lost my mind.

"Come dear," He ushered me towards the sitting room. We both sat next to each other on the chesterfield loveseat, close but not touching. I wondered if I should reach over and touch him. Did he want me to? Did I even have the right?

The maid came in and lit the fire as we both sat in silence. The flames began to roar and crackle in the large fireplace and I stared distractedly at it. The maid left after asking us if we required anything else and we both dismissed her to get some sleep.

"So, what is it dear?" His hazel eyes were watching me with worry.

I sighed, fighting to find courage. My mind was a mess.

"Andrew," I began, my tone a bit resigned. I reached over and grabbed his hands within my own. I felt his soft skin beneath my calloused ones and I faltered. "I-I have to talk to you, but before I do I just want you to know that I love you. I love you and I never meant to hurt you, okay?"

Andrew's expression changed from one of worry to one of understanding. His eyes looked forlorn and he smiled hesitantly at me. I looked over his pleasant face and my heart broke for him. I didn't deserve him. Even if he hated me after this and yelled and screamed and threw me out, I still didn't deserve him.

"This is bad, isn't it?" He asked, sounding resigned as well.

"Yes," I told him honestly.

"You don't love me anymore," He said simply, removing his hands from mine. I felt them slip away and I just sat there, blinking.

"No," I admonished. "No, I love you. Truly I do. I just—I'm not sure if it's the kind of love I thought it was. Does that make sense? Maybe we rushed into this whole marriage thing. We are awfully young and maybe we just aren't meant to be."

"But I love you," He sounded wounded, and rightfully so.

"What if you don't?" I asked. "What if you only love me because you think I'm someone I'm not?"

"What?" He looked confused and a bit panicked. It was obviously that all his future plans were crashing down around him. I felt the same way, but it had been my fault, so I wasn't allowed to look as hurt as he did.

"What I'm trying to say is…" I hesitated. "Maybe I'm not the person you fell in love with. I don't think I can be your perfect wife. I don't think I fit in here anymore."

"Why not?" He sounded a bit desperate. He reached out and grabbed my hands like I'd previously done to him. He looked earnestly into my eyes. "Why can't you be my perfect wife? You were born here, raised here, and you know everything you need to know in order to be my wife. You're perfect."

"But I'm not," I told him. "I'm not perfect, Andrew. And if you really think about it, I think you'll realize that too. I mean, come on! I trip all the time. I'm constantly late. I always forget things and ramble about nothing. I daydream constantly and I'm a horrible dancer..."

"Yes, I know," Andrew said and we both smiled in a slightly sad, slightly teasing way. "But—but I always assumed that would all pass. Sure you're not perfect now, but once we're married everything will be fine. You'll be so busy with the country club and all the parties that you won't have time to daydream."

I shook my head. "But what if it doesn't pass Andrew? What if I never stop daydreaming? What if I never become perfect? Would you be okay with that? Would you love me still?"

Andrew looked a bit uncertain. He obviously hadn't thought of that.

"You aren't going to marry me now, are you?" He seemed so desolate that I gripped his hands tighter as if that would make it all better.

"Andrew," I said softly. He looked a bit guilty and as if he were about to cry and I felt my own guilt bubble up. He wasn't supposed to feel as if it were his fault! It was mine. I needed to make him understand that. "You need to hear this from me. And I'm telling you this now because you deserve to know first. There…there is this man who lives in the city and-"

"Do you love him?" Andrew cut me off fervently. I blinked, surprised he'd caught on so quickly.

"No," I replied truthfully. I didn't love Butch. I hardly knew him. But…I liked him.

I looked off into the flames of the warm fire, a bit surprised at my own revelation.

I liked Butch. I liked him a lot. I probably had for awhile now. And it was so obvious too. It wasn't a simple attraction. It wasn't a petty crush. I liked Butch. I liked his rare smile and arrogant smirk. I liked his solitude. I like his strength. I liked his eyes and his messy hair. I liked his dry sense of humor and his deep sense of protectiveness.

I liked Butch Sawyer.

I, Bubbles Utonium, had fallen for my deviant neighbor.

No wonder the kiss had shaken me so much. No wonder I always felt better around him, so much that I agreed to stay with him. So many strange feelings and actions seemed to make sense now. I liked him. I really, really liked him.

My God, had it really been so obvious?

"No I don't love him," I repeated softly, more to myself then to Andrew.

'_Oh, but I like him so much.' _I thought whimsically. I looked up at Andrew, wondering if he could see my revelation. I wondered if he could see in my eyes how I felt. Maybe I looked suddenly different, as if the sudden knowledge of my feelings would change me on the outside like it did on the inside.

"Then it doesn't matter," Andrew said, determined. So…I guess he couldn't read me at all.

"What?" I asked, my tone unsure.

"Whoever this man is, and whatever you've done with him…it doesn't matter," Andrew assured me. "He doesn't matter, don't you understand? You're engaged to me, so that means I win. Nothing else matters."

I shook my head, shocked. "But Andrew, I kis-"

"Bubbles, please, you don't need to tell me anything. It's okay. I forgive you for all you may have done with this other man," He squeezed my hands affectionately, trying to drive the point home. "Women make mistakes sometimes. You were probably confused and alone. I shouldn't have let you live in the city by yourself anyway."

Um, yes I had been confused. But I wasn't anymore. I liked Butch. I _wanted_ that kiss to happen. I may not have realized it before, but I understood now. I wanted to kiss Butch, not because I was lonely or bored or too stupid to think…but because I liked him.

Andrew drew me closer, not understanding why I wasn't acting relieved or happy. My silence unsettled him. In truth I was just too shocked to talk. I hadn't expected him to forgive me. I hadn't expected him to be okay with it.

"You said you loved me," Andrew repeated encouragingly.

"Yes," I said, perplexed. "I do love you Andrew."

"Then it's all okay," He laughed. "You got scared and made a mistake. That stuff happens but it's nothing to end a perfect relationship over. We'll just forget it ever happened, alright? You love me and I love you. We belong together, Bubbles."

I blinked. Did he honestly believe that? Did he think it'd just all disappear?

I realized that was probably why he thought I was here. He probably thought I'd cheated on him and came here for redemption. In his mind he was being reasonable and forgiving. I was the gullible and naive fiancé that he had to keep on a short leash or else I'd just run everywhere.

I remembered all the times he spoke to me as if I were a child. He'd never expected me to be brave or make my own decisions. So this wasn't a big deal to him. He thought we could still be perfect. He truly didn't care.

"Andrew," I said stiffly. "I don't think you understand. We can't marry each other."

"Why not?" He asked placidly, a warm smile on his face. He drew one hand away in order to brush some hair out of my eyes. His touch was casual and loving. "You love me and I love you. One mistake can't ruin that. Is he really worth throwing your whole life away?"

I bit my lip. I wasn't throwing my whole life away, was I? No, I was just throwing away the life Andrew and everyone else had planned out for me. Kissing Butch hadn't ruined Andy and my relationship…we'd done that ourselves.

"We can't get married," I said, this time with more confidence. I drew my hands from his and looked away from his soft hazel eyes.

"But why?" For the first time a bit of frustration seeped into his tone.

"Andrew!" I finally snapped. My guilt and inner turmoil was ebbing away. "I kissed another man and you're okay with that! How is that _okay_? Aren't mad? Aren't you upset? If you truly loved me in the way you claim, you wouldn't be okay with me kissing another man."

"Oh, I get it," Andrew hastened to assure me. "I get it now."

"Good," I sighed. I moved to grab is hand, hoping he wasn't too upset about ending out engagement.

"You want me to be mad," He smiled thoughtfully.

_What?_

I drew my hand back to my lap.

"You want me to be mad and tell you not to see him again, right?" He shrugged. "Okay Bubbles, I demand you to stay away from him. I demand you to be loyal to me and never kiss him again….how was that?"

I felt like banging my head against the marble floor. Since when had he been so dense? Had I honestly thought that was endearing?

"You shouldn't have to pretend to be jealous! You should simply want me with you and no one else." I practically sobbed. Didn't he get it? This wasn't right! This wasn't love!

'_You don't have to go back to him. I can take care of you,_'—I stopped, startled. I realized suddenly what Butch had been referring to. He hadn't wanted me to come back here, to Andrew. He'd wanted me to stay. He didn't want me to go to Andrew and he'd felt that way without me having to tell him to.

"What's wrong?" Andy asked as he tried to decipher my contemplative look.

I stood up hastily and stepped away from him. I moved towards the fire and looked down into it. The flames were raging and growing and warming the room. I looked down at the diamond on my finger and saw it glitter in the light of the fire.

"I can't marry you," I said again, my back to him. I heard him stand up and approach me from behind. "I'm sorry, really I am. But I simply can't marry you. I thought I could, but I can't. It would be a loveless marriage and neither of us would be truly happy. I just don't love you like that."

"I love you Bubbles," Andy whispered before embracing me from behind. He held me tight, my back up against his chest. He kissed my hair gingerly. "I love you and we can make this work. You can learn to love me like I love you."

Two tears trailed down my cheeks as I stared silently into the fire. He held me tighter, willing me to comply. Willing me to obey. To commit.

"Please," He said. "Don't leave me."

I shook my head and turned in his arms. I hesitated before wrapping my arms around him. He sighed and melted into our hug. His blonde hair tickled the side of my face. I bit my lip and hugged him tighter, feeling as this moment were too bittersweet to bear.

This would be the last time I hugged him.

This would be the last time I embraced the first man I ever loved.

"Andrew," I whispered to him. "I'll always love you."

"Then marry me," He demanded, very much like a little boy.

"You won't want me," I assured him. "Once you think about it, you'll realize that I'm not what you want."

"You are," He smiled weakly. "You're exactly what I want. Please, just stay the night here, we can finish this conversation in the morning. It's nearly four o'clock, we aren't thinking straight."

It felt as if I was thinking straight for the first time in ages.

"I can't stay here," I frowned.

"Please," He insisted. "We have plenty of guest rooms. Just stay here and we'll finish talking about this tomorrow. I'm too tired right now and you're not making much sense."

I nodded, giving in. I figured I owed him as much.

"Fine," I smiled. "Take me to a guest room. We'll finish talking about this tomorrow."

--

_I was in a field of tall, yellow grass. It came up to about my knees and when it moved it seemed golden and shining. The sun was bright above me and the wind was gentle and teasing. _

_I looked around the field and spotted two women sitting by a brook. They were both wearing long, white dresses that were pulled up to their knees. Their feet were dipped into the clear, moving water and they were talking to each other in soft, low tones._

"_Hello," I called jovially to them as I approached. My feet were bare and I held up my dress so that it didn't drag in the grass. _

_They both turned to watch me approach. They smiled bright, kind smiles._

"_Oh, hello dear!" The woman on the left said warmly. Her black hair was braided loosely down her back and her skin was as pale as porcelain. Her light green eyes were lively and familiar. _

"_Mom?" I asked, slightly shocked. _'I must be dreaming_,' I realized vaguely. _

_Sure enough, the woman before me was my mother. She had the same kind eyes and curvy figure that I'd seen in so many pictures my dad had around the house. She was looking at me with a knowing look that only mothers are allowed to have._

"_Are you okay, dear?" She asked gently. I noticed she was holding a small baby in her lap. She was wrapped up in a purple blanket but I could still see the brown curls that stuck out._

"_I'm fine," I said, hesitantly. I stared at my mother, trying to soak in the sight of her. I feared I would wake at any moment and find her gone. I wanted to stay sleeping, and maybe I could keep her for a while longer._

"_No you're not," She said, her tone meaningful. "You're scared, I can tell."_

_I began to object, my first instinct to deny that I was afraid. But my words died in my throat and I realized that it'd be pointless to lie. I hated lying. And lying to my mother would be horrible, even if it was only a dream._

"_Come, sit by us," She offered in her soft, melodic tones that made me feel safe. _

_I complied without question and soon I was dipping my feet into the clear water, my toes touching the smooth rocks underneath. The water glittered in the light of the sun and the hem of my dress skimmed the crystal liquid and dampened._

"_Why are you afraid?" My mom asked once I was settled. She was holding the baby against her chest, her long fingers lightly stroked the baby's hair._

"_I…I'm scared that I'm making the wrong choice," I divulged, my own finger lightly plucking the golden grass around me._

"_What choice?" She urged._

"_I'm engaged to this amazing man," I said after a moment. "He has so many things going for him, and he's handsome, and sweet, and forgiving, and endearing. He loves me."_

_She nodded, but said nothing._

"_But," I continued, suddenly a bit ashamed. I meant to look away from her but I just couldn't move my gaze from her affectionate look. "I don't love him like he loves me. I tried to love him, but it isn't working. I feel so bad, but I don't think I can marry him."_

_Again she said nothing._

"_And there's this other guy," I admitted. If the news of another man shocked or angered her she didn't show it. She just kept listening. "And this other guy is…dangerous and quiet and cold. But he's beautiful, mom. He's so beautiful. His strength and reserve and confidence and pride are just so-"_

"_Beautiful?" She finished for me, smiling in a slightly teasing way. I smiled back, blushing slightly._

"_Yes," I said embarrassedly. "But I don't think I love him. I only like him. And he doesn't like me, at least not in that way. And he's not stable and Andrew is just so perfect. I don't know what to do."_

"_You're scared you're going to make the wrong choice," She guessed. Her tone led me to believe she'd already known that and was just listening to my stories to humor me. "And if you make the wrong choice you might lose the one you were meant to be with."_

"_I'm fickle, aren't I?" I mumbled, a bit chagrined with my self._

"_Love is complicated," She sighed, looking down at the baby in her arms and smiling tenderly at it. "But it's worth it, I promise you that."_

"_I told my fiancé that I couldn't marry him," I blurted out. She looked back up at me, but didn't look too surprised. _

"_Then you are braver than you think," Her green eyes looked proud. _

_I shook my head, my blonde hair spilling out around my shoulders. "I'm not brave. I'm terrified. He keeps begging me not to leave him. He tells me he loves me and I know it's true. And I love him as well, but…"_

"_He's not the one," A soft, almost whisper came from behind me. I looked over my shoulder, realizing with a bit of shock that I'd forgotten the other woman sitting there._

"_Excuse me?" I asked, turning toward her. My movements accidently pushed the water and it splashed up against her tanned bare calves. She didn't seem to notice._

"_He's not the one," She repeated in her quiet, whisper of a voice. _

_The woman before me looked undeniably familiar. She had haunted, sad eyes. Her smile was small and tired. She had dark brown hair that reached her chin and gleamed in the beating sun. Her skin was a dark tan and her lips were the color of a rose. _

"_You're Butch's mom," I said, not quite understanding what was going on. Having a dream about my own dead mother was odd, but someone else's as well? That was just strange. It was also unsettling, seeing as she looked almost the same as she had in Butch's picture._

"_Yes," She smiled her tired smile, but her eyes looked slightly brighter. "I'm his mother."_

_I wondered what to say to her. What could I say? Had she heard me ramble on about her son? If she had, did she even know who I was talking about?_

"_Butch…is hurt right now," The words sprung from my lips before I could stop them. I clamped my mouth shut, feeling guilty for telling her such bad news. Even if it was his mother and I was dreaming, I still should've been more eloquent. _

"_I know," She finally said, her dark eyes moving away and looking out across the field of golden grass. She watched it sway in the wind and her white dress hung down against her thin, slender body. "He is hurt more often then not." _

"_I think he'll be okay," I hastened to assure her. "He's awfully strong."_

_She smiled and leaned over to dip her fingers in the clear water._

"_I wish I could make him safe all the time," She told me, her eyes fixed elsewhere as if she weren't used to talking about such things. "I wish I could make all three of my boys safe. I'm their mother; I should be there to help them."_

_I reached out and touched her small shoulder but she didn't look over at me. She just kept playing with the water, watching it ripple and swirl around her fingers. Her smile was distracted and her brown hair was wavy._

"_You'll see them again," I told her. _

_She looked back over at me and smiled forlornly. "Yes," She agreed. "I'll see them again. Hopefully not too soon, though."_

_I heard my mother laugh softly at that but I frowned, not liking their sad humor. Even if it was my dream, I knew they were talking about death. I knew she meant she'd see them again in death. It made me stomach lurch to even think about that._

"_You'll look after him for me, won't you?" She asked, her eyes a bit hopeful but her smile still sad. "You'll look after him for me the best you can."_

"_I can't," I said, looking away and plucking another strand of golden grass with a bit of agitation. "That's what I'm so confused about. I don't think I can look after Butch. I don't think I can be with him."_

"_Why not?" Butch's mother asked, her quiet tone was curious but not insulted._

"_Because he doesn't need me," I said with a bit of malice. "Butch is strong and brave without me. He'll be fine on his own. Andrew, however…Andrew needs me. He loves me so much. He needs me to be there with him."_

"_But Andrew is not the one," Butch's mom shook her head._

"_You keep saying that!" I snapped, aggravated. "How would you know who I'm meant to be with? What if Andrew is my true love? What if he's the one I'm meant for? You really expect me to leave him for a boy that hardly wants me around?"_

"_Butch needs you," Butch's mom told me._

"_He doesn't," I said calmly._

"_But he does," She smiled again. "He needs you more than Andrew. He just doesn't know how to show it."_

"_Right," I snorted ungracefully. "Butch needs me. Sure. And pigs can fly."_

"_Don't be rude, dear," My mother's tone was slightly amused from my other side. _

"_I'm not being rude," I sighed. "I'm being honest. Butch doesn't need me, Andrew does. I should be with Andrew."_

"_But you don't love Andrew," Butch's mom looked curious again before she turned away and began playing with the water. _

"_I could learn to love Andrew in the way he needs me to," I tried to assure myself more than them. They seemed to notice because they both laughed lightly at that. I frowned. "This isn't funny. This is extremely frustrating."_

"_Love is frustrating as well," My mother said in her pleasing voice. _

_I groaned and kicked at the water with aggravation. The droplets flew everywhere and landed on us but no one commented on my juvenile behavior. I almost wished they'd reprimand me. Maybe then I'd wake up. I was growing sick of this dream._

"_So you two are saying I should pick Butch?" I asked, giving in and trying to figure it all out._

"_You already said you didn't want to marry Andrew," My mother reminded me._

"_I know," I replied. "But what if I'm wrong? Maybe I should marry him."_

"_He's not the one," Butch's mother said, but this time she looked almost teasing. She knew she was annoying me and I rolled my eyes at the two women's behavior. At least I wasn't alone in my immaturity._

"_So Butch is the one?" I asked._

_The both shrugged. "Maybe," My mother said. "You'll never know if you marry Andrew, will you?"_

_I bit my lip. She was right._

"_But Butch is so difficult," I sighed. "Even if I like him, it won't help. I know you think he needs me, but he's not going to admit that. He's not the type."_

"_He needs you," Butch's mom said confidently, her quiet tone a bit louder than before. "And you need him."_

_I blinked._

"_I don't need him," I said, staring into her dark eyes._

"_You do," She said, smiling. "You need him, and he needs you."_

_I shook my head. "But Andrew-"_

"_Will be okay," My mom finished for me. "He'll find his perfect woman one day. But she doesn't have to be you."_

_I stood up, letting my dress drop into the water but not really caring. I stepped out of the brook and treaded into the grass, pacing a bit. The two women watched me, my mother holding the baby gently. The gold grass brushed against my legs as I walked back in forth._

"_You two act as if this is so simple!" I shouted to the wind, to the sky, to the grass._

"_Nothing is ever simple," My mother told me bluntly._

"_We're just trying to help you out," Butch's mother added in softly._

"_But I'm so confused," I groaned, hugging myself. "I'm so scared I'm going to do something wrong."_

"_Don't be scared, darling," My mother said in a lovingly way. She stood and walked over to me. I had to look up at her taller form to see her watching me kindly. "Quit beating yourself up about all of this. Some things are just meant to happen, and it's not your fault that this is how it went. You did the best you could to be good and loyal, but fate can't be changed. And a beautiful boy is hard to resist."_

_I said nothing, and just stared up at her sweet, warm smile._

"_Yes," Butch's mother laughed as she stood next to us. "My son has a way of stealing your heart without your consent. I knew it the first time I laid eyes on him. He was such a wonderful child."_

_I looked away from them both and stared out at the field. The gold seemed to stretch on forever. I wondered if it ever ended. I hoped it didn't. _

"_It's just such a hard choice to make," I whispered._

"_Yes," My mother agreed. "But you make the right one, trust me."_

_I looked up at her, startled. How would she know what choice I make? _

_She winked at me and looked down at my hand. I followed her gaze and let out a startled laugh. My left hand wasn't covered. There was no ring on my finger. I stared down at it, slightly amused. _

"_Say hello to your father for me," My mother grinned, her arms gently rocking the baby. "And tell your sisters to be good."_

"_Wait," I begged. I wasn't ready to wake up anymore. I wasn't ready to lose her._

"_Don't worry my dear," My mother soothed. "I'll be right here waiting for you. We'll see each other again."_

"_My son will watch over you until then," Butch's mother winked at me. _

_They both laughed warmly at that. Their laughs drifted into the breeze and melted in the sun. The golden grass stretched on forever and the two women and the little baby seemed to hover for a moment before it all disappeared in the space of a heartbeat. _

--

I woke up in the dark guest room in the Bussey estate. I was buried beneath piles of sheets and blankets but still my body felt cold. I looked around the room, feeling disoriented and oddly alone. The moon shone in from the open window and bathed me in pale light.

"Weird dream," I muttered to myself, sitting up.

I looked around the room, unsure of myself at first. But after a moment I became more confident and I slipped out of the bed and walked over to the desk in the corner. Ignoring the cool air, I grabbed a piece of paper and ball-point pen. I sat down at the desk and began to write in the light of the moon.

'_Dear Andrew_,' My letter read. My handwriting was small but legible. _'I love you, and I always will. But I cannot marry you. I'm sorry that I must tell you this, but it's true. I can't be the wife you deserve and I hope one day you will see that. I hope you are safe and happy forever, but unfortunately I will not be a part of your forever. Please do not blame yourself, for it was beyond our control. Fate is a fickle thing, and I hope it rewards us both kindly for what it has put us through. _ _You are an amazing man and you will find love one day, I'm sure of it. I am sorry again, and I'll call you soon. We'll finish our conversation in a little while, okay? Until then, I wish you well.—With all my love, but not my heart—Bubbles.'_

I sighed and walked over to the bed. I made it up perfectly, smoothing the covers straight. I placed the note in the center of the bed where I was sure he'd find it. I felt bad for saying goodbye in a note, but I'd talk to him again soon. I just needed time to think until then.

I nodded, resigned with my decision. I felt vaguely unsure of myself, but the feeling passed. This was right. I wasn't meant for Andrew. I knew that now. It took some time, but I finally realized that I wasn't meant for him.

I bit my lip and gently slid my engagement ring off my finger. I sat it down on top of the note, flexing my fingers at the unfamiliar lack of weight. I moved away from the bed and quietly treaded towards the door. I opened it and let myself look back once and the grand room before I walked out into the hallway.

I shut the door noiselessly and turned to leave. This wasn't my life now. It hadn't been for some time. I didn't need Andrew and he didn't need me. I wasn't sure exactly what I did need, but it had something to do with an injured boy across town, lying on a couch and in pain.

I sighed, trying to accept and understand what fate had in laid out for me. With Andrew everything had been planned and mapped out. Now I had no idea what was to become of me. That was a frightening and exciting notion all at once.

Hopefully fate would be kind. Hopefully I was strong enough to endure this mishap. And hopefully Butch really did need me. After all, it was much easier to need someone who needed you back, that's for sure.

"Everything will be okay," I said, not quite sure if I believed myself. "Everything will work out." This time I was more confident.

I smiled ironically and began to walk away. Walk away from Andrew Bussey, the first man I loved. Walk away from my preplanned life and world. Walk away from the marriage I was about to give in to. Walk away from my written goodbye, and my engagement ring that glittered in the pale moonlight.

--

_  
__So she took her love for to gaze awhile  
Among the fields of barley  
In his arms she fell as her hair came down  
Among the fields of gold_

--

**So, it might seem as if nothing happened in this chapter, but it did, I swear! I mean…Bubbles likes Butch and she's not with Andrew anymore. That's something, right? Hehe…please don't kill me!**

**This was a really hard chapter to write, believe me. And the baby in Bubble's mother's arms will be explained in the next chapter.**

**And, okay, I'm sooooo sorry for the long weight. My excuse? My own laziness as well as my stupid keyboard. **

**Yeah, my '1' and 'H' and 'U' are broken. You may be wondering how I'm able to type. Well, it's a long frustrating process I promise you. So if any word is missing an 'H' or whatever, I'm sorry. It's not my fault though. Blame technology!**

**Oh yeah, and FFN wouldn't let me upload my document either. Is anyone else completely frustrated with that?**

**Read and review!**


	15. All Over You

_Yeah he's a looker,  
But I really think it's guts that matter most.  
I displayed them for you,  
__Strewn out about from coast to coast._

--

I struggled slightly to hide my pain as I stepped out of Brick's car. Not only did my ribs protest my movements but my stitches got tight as well. But I was careful not to wince because I knew Brick and Ace were watching me closely. They didn't want me up and around as it was, but I'd ignored their complaints. The last thing I needed was for them to see me in pain.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Brick was asking as he hovered in that annoying way he sometimes did. He got out of his car as well and walked over to where I stood on the sidewalk. "You can stay at my place for a while, that way you won't have to lift or do anything on your own."

I sent him a look, clearing saying that was a dumb-ass idea. I hated when people treated me like I was weak and useless. Even if I was in pain I acted as if I were fine. I simply wasn't the type to lie in bed and be waited on. It wasn't my style.

"Whatever," He rolled his eyes. "Bust a stitch and bleed to death, see if I care," He said snidely.

"That'd be a painful way to die," Ace smirked as he walked over to join us. He lit up a cigarette, blocking the end with his hand so that the strong wind didn't put it out. "Messy too, I'm sure."

I ignored Ace's worthless input. I swear he just talked to hear the sound of his voice. With a sharp nudge to his arm I got him to hand me over one of his cigarettes. He only smoked Camels, and I hated them, but I had none of my own and I really wanted a smoke. I brought it up to my lips and breathed in deep.

"Just let me go up to my apartment," I said, trying to sound bored. In reality I was a bit antsy. It was the first time I'd really stood up since I'd woken up a few hours earlier and I didn't like sitting still for too long. But the nagging sense of pain in my body made it hard to stand for too long.

"Do you remember what I said?" Ace asked me, shoving his free hand into the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Yeah, I remember," I said shortly. God, one stab wound and it's like I'm a toddler.

"Keep away from places you know the Audley Boys hang out," He repeated none the less. Hadn't I said that I remembered? "And keep a gun on you at all times. You're in no condition to fight and they know that. They're going to go at you and a gun will be your best defense."

"Yeah, I know," I said blankly. I wanted to insist that I could fight just fine but I knew it'd be a pointless argument.

"And we're going to try and get a meeting with Grant Audley," Brick cut in and continued for Ace. "He's overstayed his welcome around here. It's about time we told him that. He's crazy if he thinks he'll be able to scare us out of the way."

I nodded and shuffled a bit. I felt the urge to sit down, my whole body aching, bit I ignored it. I wasn't going to let some punks keep me down.

"We'll need you at the meeting," Ace sighed. "We don't want him to think you're out of commission. He needs to know we aren't that easy to beat."

"Right," I nodded again. I wasn't sure how well I'd do in a room with Grant Audley. The guy was never one of my favorite people, but after that stunt he pulled at the bar I just flat out wanted to kill him. And since he was trying to kill me as well, I had a feeling that our opinions of each other were mutual.

"We'll have to meet him on neutral territory," Brick reached up and adjusted his hat again. "He'll never agree to meet us if he thinks we're going to hurt him."

"We are going to hurt him," Ace smiled as smoke pooled out of his mouth.

"Yeah," Brick rolled his eyes. "But we need to talk to him first. We need him healthy for that."

"He doesn't have to be healthy to talk," I pointed out, my muscles tensing. The idea of hurting that man was enticing.

"We're going to let him speak his piece right now," Brick advised, giving me a warning look that clearly said to cool off. "But don't worry, he'll get what's coming to him. We just have to figure out what his men are up to first."

"Great," I rolled my eyes. "Not that I don't love talking to you two, but can we drop this for now? I'm freezing, and hearing you drabble on about nothing is just pissing me off."

"Sorry if we're making you wait out in the cold princess," Ace said sarcastically.

"Can I go up to my apartment now?" I asked, ignoring him.

Brick looked up at my apartment building, his red eyes hesitant. Leaving me alone was dangerous in the event that the Audley Boys came back. But he knew I wasn't going to allow him to baby me. I could protect myself.

Finally my brother sighed, defeated. "Lock your door and keep a gun-"

"Yeah, yeah," I cut him off, annoyed. "I get it, chill. You two are really getting on my nerves. I ought to knock your skulls in for treating me like a pussy."

"I'd like to see you try," Ace grinned before promptly ducking a sharp punch I aimed at his head. He moved in time and my fist connected with air. I scowled at him, trying my best not to cringe at the stinging in my abdomen. He was such an ass-wipe.

"Fuck off," I told him sourly.

"Goodbye to you too Butchy-boy," He said slyly as he flicked his cigarette on the ground. He gave me a mock salute before walking back towards Brick's car. I knew he hated being drove around town and I smirked. I got some satisfaction from the knowledge that his car was in pretty bad condition thanks to me. I'd bled everywhere in it.

"Be careful," Brick's voice drew my attention back to him. He was watching me closely, his voice grave. I just nodded slightly, if only to appease him.

"You too," I said a bit awkwardly. Brotherly-love wasn't exactly my strong suit.

His red eyes left me and looked back at my apartment building. He seemed to think for a moment, his jaw muscles tensing and his eyebrows knitting together. I waited despite my antsy need to get to my apartment. I knew he was about to say something.

"She won't be there, you know," He said finally. He still wasn't looking at me.

"Who?" I asked, although I had a slight feeling that I knew who he was talking about.

"That girl," Brick looked down at the ground before meeting my eyes. "Bubbles."

I felt myself tense up, the anxiousness in my stomach intensifying. "_What_?" I asked, my tone completely cold. "I thought you said you dropped her off here last night."

"I brought her here," He admitted, his voice not wavering and his eyes still. "She changed and cleaned up in your apartment. But then I took her to her fiancé's house. I left her there."

I said nothing, my whole body feeling suddenly very cold. My jaw was so tense it felt almost impossible to even talk. Brick was watching me, trying to gauge my reaction. He noticed my immediate rigid posture and I watched him shift.

She had left?

She had fucking left?

She'd honestly gone back to her fiancé? What was she thinking?

I felt anger bubble low within me and I clenched my fists, not knowing what to do with it. I didn't expect her to want me or anything, but after that kiss I was pretty sure she liked me enough to stick around. But no, she'd gone of with her damn fiancé and left me behind like a mindless twit. I can't believe I thought she'd be better then that.

"Whatever," I finally bit out, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably. God that girl pissed me off sometimes. "It's not my issue."

"She was scared, man," Brick said in a surprisingly stiff voice. He was defending her? "I think it got to be too much for her. The Audley Boys attacking her, seeing you hurt, you kissing her…I think she just panicked and went where she felt safe."

She should feel safe around _me._

"So you're saying it's my fault?" I asked him angrily.

"No," He said, clearly frustrated. "I'm saying not to get too upset with her. I think she was just looking for a place to calm down."

I rolled my eyes. "Brilliant deduction. What the hell were you thinking, dropping her off at another man's house like that?"

"Usually you don't keep close tabs on the girls you're with. How was I supposed to know this one was different?" He shot back. His face got a bit angry. "And what makes this girl different anyway? She's engaged, Butch. She's just messing around with you."

I didn't know what made Bubbles different then all the other girls I'd ever been with. She just was. And it wasn't even like it was about sex, seeing as I hadn't even fucked her. Yet. For some reason she was simply different. Maybe it was because I liked her. I didn't really ever like the other women.

"It's my business," I told him coldly. "You need to stay out of it. Next time you ask me before taking her anywhere, you got that? And quit talking about her fiancé. I'm going to deal with him. He won't be an issue much longer."

Brick's face clouded over. "What are you going to do? Kill him?" He stepped closer so that our faces were a short distance apart. He glared irately at me. "Think about it, Butch. She isn't like all the other girls. That won't impress her. If you hurt her fiancé, she'll hate you."

I stood my ground, ignoring the truth in his words. What did he expect me to do? Share her?

"I don't care if she hates me," I said slowly. "I'm not going to let some other guy take her without some kind of a fight. I don't back down that easily and I'm not giving her up."

Brick said nothing. He stepped back, the wind ripping into us both but we ignored it. Thunder rumbled somewhere off in the distance and echoed off the buildings. Any second it would begin to pour. We didn't move, however. Brick just stared evenly at me. His red eyes regarded me almost curiously and when he spoke there was a hint of interest in his tone.

"You really like this girl, don't you?" He asked.

I said nothing, but I guess that was enough of an answer for him because he simply raised an eyebrow. He didn't mock or push me about it, though. Brick was fiercely loyal to both Boomer and me. He always did what he thought was best for us, even if we didn't like what had to be done. He never was the type to mock us over something serious.

"I shouldn't have driven her to her fiancé's house," He said finally, letting the previous topic drop. "She was upset and I figured she'd be safe there. Besides, he is her fiancé," Brick said with a shrug. "She's doesn't seem like the cheating type. Maybe she felt bad about the kiss."

Of course she felt bad about the kiss. That much was obvious the night before. Her eyes were guilty and her mannerism was hesitant. I knew she felt bad, but that didn't mean she had to leave. I could've calmed her down somehow. She didn't need to turn tail and bail out.

"Since when were you so involved in my social life?" I asked Brick, my voice a bit harsh.

"Listen man," Brick tried. "She asked me to take her. It's not my fault. What was I suppose to do? Refuse? Hold her hostage until you could wake up and make her stay?"

"Yes," I replied. "That would have been better then handing her over to the enemy."

"Yeah," Brick smirked. "But you're one of the Sawyer brothers. That guy has nothing on you."

I shook my head. "Yeah, except millions of dollars."

Brick said nothing again.

"If you two are done bitching at each other, can we please leave?" Ace called over from the car. We both looked over at him. His sunglasses were in place so I couldn't see what he was looking at, but from the angle of his face he was probably watching the sky in search of the impending rain.

"Yeah," Brick called back after a second. "I'm coming." He looked back at me and nodded. "I can go get her if you want me to. I can drag her back here."

"I thought I told you to stay out of it," I reminded him, but there was no sting to my words.

"Just thought I'd offer," Brick smiled before walking towards the car.

As I turned to go back into my building a fat, cold raindrop hit my cheek. More followed and by the time I stepped inside it had already begun to pour. I looked over my shoulder to see Brick pull away from the curb and disappear down the street. I kicked my foot against the wall to get some water of my shoes before I moved towards the stairs.

--

"So she left," I grumbled when I finally got to the top of the stairs. I felt faintly out of breath and my ribs were aching. I ignored it, though, and tried to focus on the topic at hand. Bubbles was at her fiancé's house, probably feeling mad at me and guilty about the kiss.

I wondered if she was even going to come back. It'd be easier for her to pretend it never happened if she just stayed back home. No doubt she was furious with me, and the idea of running into me wouldn't be too appealing to her either.

I sighed and turned towards my apartment. I was really ready to sit down. I was pathetically sore and tired. And hungry too. I hated feeling so odd, but hopefully it'd be easier to ignore by the end of the day.

I opened my door and slipped in, my wet shoes squeaking against the floor. The door shut behind me and I leaned back against it, closing my eyes. The past few hours had been extremely frustrating. My head pounded with annoyance and I tried to breathe slowly.

First I left Bubbles alone because I was mad at her, then I got attacked, next I find out she got attacked as well, then I woke up and people started treating me like I was two. And Bubbles had gone away. And I was injured. Seriously, I just wanted to relax and forget about it all.

"Welcome home!" I cheery, familiar voice startled me.

I opened my eyes to see Bubbles standing a few feet away. She was smiling brilliantly, her cheeks flushed. Her blonde hair had fallen down around her shoulders and into her eyes. She was clasping her hands behind her back and rocking excitedly on her heels.

I opened my mouth, a bit shocked to see her. "Wha-"

"I wasn't expecting you to be home so soon," She said quickly, her eyes bright and very blue. "So I'm a bit of a mess, but I'm sure you don't care. How do you feel? Are you hurting? Do you want to sit down? I folded your bed up, so you can sit on the couch if you want."

"What are you doing here?" I asked, barely even processing what she just said.

"Oh, I'm cooking you lunch," She explained, clearly missing my point. I meant to question what she was doing in the city. Why wasn't she at her fiancé's house? "I thought you'd get home later then this, so it's not done yet. And it's technically still breakfast time, so-"

"You cleaned my apartment," I said, looking around. "Again."

She laughed lightly and I felt like kissing her again. "Yeah, well it was technically my mess too."

I raised an eyebrow and regarded her. From her posture and talking I could tell she was nervous. Her cheeks were still lightly flushed from what I could only assume was embarrassment. She felt awkward around me and was trying to cover it up, that was for sure. I wondered if she was trying to forget about the kiss. A part of felt angry that she'd be so adamant about ignoring it.

"So…" She trailed of, shifting a bit under my scrutiny. She probably noticed the way my eyes trailed to her lips a bit more than normal. "Are you hungry?"

"Sure," I said indifferently, although I was starving.

"Okay, it'll be ready soon," She said, smiling in that forced way she sometimes did. Yeah, she was definitely feeling nervous. "Come on and sit down. You shouldn't be standing up. I'm sure you're in a lot of pain."

"My legs weren't hurt," I told her, ignoring her obvious concern.

"I know," She laughed. "But you must want to relax. It's going to hurt to breathe for a while, isn't it?"

I sighed and conceded. People really liked to believe I was paraplegic or something. She trailed after me as I walked over to my couch and sat down with practiced care. I could feel her analyze my movements and I held back each wince and hiss that threatened to escape. She didn't need any more reason to worry.

"Okay, you just sit there," She instructed, her hands on her hips and a slightly more confident smile on her face. "I'll finish fixing you lunch, you must be starving."

She disappeared into the kitchen and my gaze trailed after her. I sighed once she was gone and leaned back against the couch. My frustration was slightly ebbed now that she was here, but I was still pretty uneasy. And confused.

After all, the Audley Boys still needed to get knocked down a few pegs.

And…and _why _was she here again?

I'd been so angry with her for going back to her fiancé, that I hadn't even considered what I'd do if she was back here. And now she was bustling around my apartment as if nothing in the past day had ever occurred. I wasn't sure if she was just trying desperately to pretend the kiss hadn't happened or something else.

I rubbed my temples with a bit of aggravation. This was so complicated. I tried to think of something else, but every aspect of my life was hectic and my mood turned foul. Finally I just concentrated on the sound of the rain against the window and tried to let it calm me.

After a few minutes I began to smell the food cooking in the kitchen. The scent filled my whole apartment and my stomach growled. I began to get used to the calm patter of the rain and the sound of Bubbles moving around when suddenly a loud bang emitted from the other room.

"Ouch," I heard Bubbles hiss.

I was on my feet almost instantly despite the pain. I strode across my apartment and came into the kitchen. I saw a pan on the stove bubbling and steaming violently. Sauce trailed down the side of it and onto the counter and floor bellow. Bubbles was on her knees below it, scrubbing the mess up with a rag.

"What happened?" I asked, walking towards her slowly. I tried to see what had hurt her, but her form was hunched towards the ground and her hair had fallen to hide her face. "Betty?"

"It's nothing," She sighed, sounding a little miserable. "I just turned the sauce up too high and it started popping and spilling over."

I leaned over to turn off the stove, careful not to step on her. I grabbed a spare rag and gripped the pot's handle in or to move it off the burner.

"It's ruined," She groaned, giving up on the floor and beginning to scrub the side of the counter instead. "I was working on it all morning and now it's messed up."

I didn't care too much about the sauce. Or the mess. However, it was hard to miss the way she was favoring her left hand. She held it close to her chest and didn't lean on it. If I had to guess, I'd say she'd burned it pretty bad.

"Let me see your hand," I commanded her sternly. She barely spared me a glance from her spot on the floor and just kept trying to get the sauce off the counter. "Come on baby, let me see your hand. I know you burned it."

"It's fine," She said quickly. Stubbornly. "But now the spaghetti is messed up and—Eep! Butch!"

She tried to pull away from me as I hauled her up off the ground. She was much smaller than me, though, and despite my injuries she still couldn't get out of my grip. I pushed her roughly towards the sink, her hipbones digging into the side of the counter and her back up against my front.

"Jerk," I heard her mutter, but I didn't miss the shaky sound of her voice.

I reached around her and turned on the faucet. I waited a bit for her to stick her hand under but when she didn't I grabbed for it myself. After a short struggle I managed to submerge her hand. I held it lightly, trying not to touch the burned skin. Her hand was much smaller than mine and I rotated it beneath the water.

"I said it was fine," She said at last. I couldn't see her face but I had a feeling she was blushing. With the way I was pressed up against her back I couldn't exactly blame her. But she wasn't trying to pull away anymore, and she just watched our hands move underneath the cool spray of the water.

Huh. _That's an interesting development._

I smirked and leaned in closer to her, my breath up against the side of her neck and my hips against her backside. She stiffened but said nothing. From behind the curtain of her hair I could see that her eyes were trained on our hands. Thanks to the close proximity I thought I could hear her whispering something about 'stupid fate' and 'golden grass' and 'annoying mothers'. It all seemed a bit odd to me so I ignored it.

"Brick said you went to your fiancé's house," I said at last. My tone sounded nonchalant and bored. I, however, was tense.

"I did," She confirmed softly.

I struggled with myself for a moment, anger chocking my throat and clouding my mind. It was one thing to hear it from my brother, but to hear it from her mouth was another. It was worse. Much worse. And I fought the urge to yell at her. I debated just walking out.

"I had to talk to him," She said when I didn't reply.

"Sure," I said in a deadly tone. The cold water running over our hands did little to distract me from my violent thoughts and I sighed.

"I _had_ to talk to him," She repeated, this time with a bit more vehemence. Like she was trying to convince herself as well. I didn't know what to say, so I pressed myself more firmly against her back. I was shocked to feel her lean back against me. "He had to know…"

I frowned and her words.

"Had to know what?" I asked, staring down and the sleek metal of the sink. I had a feeling I already knew, but I needed her to tell me. I was tired of assuming how she felt. I wanted to hear her say it. I wanted her to tell me how she picked her fiancé. I wanted her to admit how she ran back to him.

"Butch, when we kissed…" She began, not answering my question. I heard her struggle with herself. "That kiss-"

"Who said that kiss meant anything?" I asked her, trying to get her to stop faltering. Maybe my indifference would help her turn me down. I was feeling anxious, standing there and waiting for it to come. I wasn't used to being turned down, and I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to take it.

"It might have meant nothing to you, but it meant something to me," She said suddenly, her voice terse. "That kiss—that kiss woke me up."

Shocked, I dipped my head, my mouth resting against the bare skin of her neck. I didn't really know what to say. I didn't quite understand what she was struggling to tell me. So I just pressed my lips to her warm skin and felt her shiver against me.

"What did your fiancé have to know?" I asked her, my voice low and my lips brushing against her soft skin as I spoke. I saw her skin flush with embarrassment and I pressed my lips to it again, this time raking my teeth against her pulse.

"He had to know…that I didn't love him anymore," She said, her voice unsteady.

I wasn't sure if I heard her right, or if she was lying, so I raked my teeth against her neck again. She whimpered softly, but not with pain. I pressed my lips against the reddened skin, burying my face against her neck. She tilted her head and I smelled the slight sweat and flowery smell of her skin.

"What did your fiancé have to know?" I repeated, my voice so low it was almost cracking. I was pushing my hips firmly against her and she was leaning back against me. It was driving me mad. I had to fight to focus on her next words.

"I don't love him," She said, this time telling me almost desperately. "I don't. Not anymore. Not like that."

"Are you sure?" I didn't pull my head up from her neck, my lips unconsciously pressing kisses to the soft skin revealed to me.

"I'm positive," She whispered. My mouth stilled against her skin, I felt her pulse thrumming almost violently fast against my cheek.

We stood there for a minute, saying nothing. The rain was beating against the fogged window before us, everything outside a drenched, gray mess. The air was thick with the smell of the charred, burnt sauce. Bubble's hair brushed against my skin and I could feel her breathing slowly calm down.

"I'm positive," She repeated in that same, quiet voice. But this time I could hear her confidence. It was there, mingled with her words. I still didn't know what to say. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do.

I hadn't planned for this.

What was I supposed to feel now? I felt no anger, no spite, no blame. I only felt this small, aching sense of relief somewhere deep in my mind. Besides that, everything was calm. The air, the rain, our breathing. It was all calm. _I_ was calm.

"Bubbles…" I began, but stopped. Still I had nothing to say.

I heard her giggle, the sound close to my ear. I raised my head from her neck and saw her blushing nervously, her teeth chewing her bottom lip with a vengeance. She felt just as unsure as me, but was less skilled at hiding it. Her nervousness made me wince and I hastily pressed a kiss to her temple, trying to calm her.

"It'll be okay," I told her, if only for something to say. Usually silence suited me best, but I figured I had to say _something_. She just told her fiancé she didn't love him, and as much as that made me want to grin victoriously, I knew that wasn't what she needed. My arrogance wouldn't help, and I only wished I was better at comforting. It's just…comforting was _not_ my thing.

"Yes," She said at last, her eyes trained fixedly on something before her. "It'll be fine."

I frowned and followed her gaze. I was shocked to see our hands still joined beneath the constant downfall of the faucet. The water was cool against my skin as I gripped her burned hand loosely. I had been running it beneath the water all along and I hadn't even been thinking about it.

I heard her laugh a bit hoarsely. It was a forced, nervous laugh.

"Sorry," She muttered, detaching her hand from mine and letting it fall away. She couldn't exactly step away, however, since I was still pressing her firmly against the counter. "I need to finish cleaning the mess up. Maybe I can salvage some food."

I said nothing. I didn't move. Why? Because I had seen it. Briefly, before she pulled her hand away, I had seen it. Her left hand, small and slightly blistered, had no ring on it. None. I didn't even bother looking around the countertop for it. I knew it wouldn't be there.

"You're not engaged anymore?" I asked, my voice bored. I was gripping the edge of the counter on both sides of her, my knuckles white. She was trapped up against me, so she couldn't move if she tried. But she wasn't trying. She was still leaning back against me slightly, her chin held high and he eyes staring out the window.

"I already told you," She said, a bit of exasperation tinting her tone. "I don't love him anymore."

"Yeah," I said to the back of her head, rolling my eyes. "But people who don't love each other still get married."

"I'm not that kind of person," She said with a sigh.

"What kind of person are you?" I asked, shifting my hips against her and letting my breath ghost across the back of her neck. She shivered again and I smirked, loving her reaction. When she didn't reply I pressed my lips against the knot that signaled the top of her spinal cord. "Well?"

Suddenly her elbow came back and rammed my stomach. Right against my stitches.

"Fuck!" I gasped out, stepping back away and fighting the urge to vomit. Damn that hurt. My vision blurred and I swayed slightly with pain.

"I'm not _that_ kind of person either," She spun around to tell me. Her arms were crossed underneath her chest and she was glaring down at my hunched form. I didn't miss the concern that flashed across her eyes when she saw me gripping at my stomach.

"Stupid bitch," I scowled at her. I straightened painfully and glowered down at her. She stared defiantly back up at me. "Are you trying to bust one of my stitches? Do you want me to start bleeding everywhere again?"

I noticed her eyes widen with worry before she rolled her eyes.

"You should be sitting anyway," She said, shaking her head. Her blonde hair looked paler in the gray lighting that came in from the window and her cheeks were flushed with anger and embarrassment. Her blue eyes were watching me closely.

I muttered a few choice words at her before walking back towards the couch. She followed me, herding me and pushing against my back. Once I was sitting she fussed over me a bit, grabbing me a blanket and such, but I pointedly ignored her.

"Now," She said animatedly. She was smiling brightly, all traces of nervousness and anger gone. "I'm going to go wrap up my hand with a bandage. Then I'm going to call in some Chinese food from the restaurant down the street. They deliver. You just sit there and relax."

"Whatever," I muttered, leaning back against the couch and trying to find a position where my ribs didn't sting so much.

"You okay?" She asked, worriedly. "Do you need anything? Any bandages or whatnot?"

"I was fine until you tried to reopen my knife wound," I told her sourly. I watched her tug nervously at her hair, a slight blush staining her cheeks.

"I wouldn't have elbowed you if you weren't pinning me up against the counter," She shot back.

"What? You didn't enjoy that position?" I asked sarcastically.

She blushed deeper and tried feebly to look mad and not so mortified. "No, I didn't. And you need to learn to keep your hands to yourself."

I rolled my eyes at her ire. She rolled her eyes as well and spun on her heel to walk away. I let my gaze follow after her, enjoying the view as she disappeared into the bathroom. The sway of her hips, however, did little to relax me and I shifted anxiously on the couch.

"Do you like shrimp fried rice or chicken fried rice?" She was asking as she emerged from the room, this time carrying a bandage and trying to wrap up her burned hand. "I like chicken, but sometimes I prefer the shrimp."

"I really don't care," I told her plainly and she sent me a look before trying again to wrap up her hand. The bandage kept slipping and she was quickly getting annoyed with it. A small frown marred her face and I watched her concentrated look. "Come here."

"What?" She asked, looking over at me.

I said nothing and after a moment she slowly walked over to where I was sitting. I leaned forward and grabbed for her hand. She held it out and let me take the bandage from her. The skin on her palm was red and blistering. She was probably in a bit of pain, and a small sense of pride hit my stomach at the fact that she wasn't complaining.

"Thank you," She mumbled as I began to wrap her hand. I wasn't great at it, mostly because I wasn't sure if I was hurting her or not, but she didn't complain. Each time I looked at her ring finger and saw no diamond I smirked arrogantly and had to duck my head to keep her from seeing. Finally it was covered and I tied it off and leaned back away from her.

She stared down at me, a considering, hopeful look in her cobalt eyes.

She was mine. Mine, and only mine. And she knew it. Somehow, deep down, she knew it. But she wasn't running away. She was standing there, in my apartment, with this completely hopeful and anxious look. And her lips were full and perfect and her eyes were too blue. And this time she wasn't running away.

There was no fiancé.

There was no ring on her finger.

She was mine.

And although I was pretty sure she was going to be the death of me, I couldn't find it in me to care.

I realized then that I was doomed. Totally and completely doomed.

--

"So," Ace was saying slowly, the bare light bulb hanging above him cast a dangerous glint to his sunglasses. "Do you understand what we're saying?"

"I understand," Grand Audley replied. "But I'm not going to agree."

I felt Boomer tense up beside me, but he knew better than to say anything. We both just stood watching the scene unfold before us. Ace was sitting casually against a chair, Brick beside him looking stern. Grant was on the other side of the table, a toothpick dangling from his lips and a bored sense of arrogance about him. Behind him stood three men the size of Big Billy. They looked slow, but their steroid induced muscles were practically staining their skin. They flanked around their leader in a hovering sort of protection, hoping to make us nervous.

I didn't get nervous that easily, they'd have to do better.

"Listen," Ace smirked but I could tell he was beginning to get annoyed. "You can either let all your men get killed by drug dealers or let them get killed by us. Either way, they're going to die. Trust me when I say the drug dealers will be more pleasant than my men."

I heard the Gang Greene Gang laugh in a sinister way towards my left. Grant Audley didn't even spare them a glance. He just smiled in a confident way and leaned forward over the table. He looked at Ace closely.

"We want your territory and we're going to take it," Grant said in a dark way. The lone light bulb hanging above them cast shadows along his face. "There's a lot of money to be made in all the neighborhoods you run. My men know that, and they aren't going to give it up."

"But you see," Ace sighed. "We aren't exactly okay with that. And if we aren't okay with something that happens on our territory…then we're going to have an issue. A violent issue."

Grant shook his head. "You called me out to the middle of the city, dragged me into the back room of a bar, and…try to scare me? I thought better of you Ace."

Ace said nothing for a moment; a dangerous smirk playing about his lips. The room was quiet and I could hear the three big men breathing thickly. Brick was watching Grant closely, his red eyes narrowed in scrutiny. It was Brick who finally broke the silence.

"It's not our fault your men can't pay their dealers," Brick told Grant in a diplomatic voice. "But we don't want them running their shipments in our territory. And if we have to resort to violence to get them out, then so be it."

Grant smiled at Brick. It was a cold smile but it didn't shake any of us. The men behind him stood still and ready for any signal he might give them. I was watching them from the corner of my eyes. I was well aware of the cold metal of my gun against my skin and I'd use it if I had to. We'd agreed not to carry guns that night…but Ace wasn't all about rules.

"The way I see it," Ace said at last. "You're the one who can't keep your men under control. They went into the drug business without you knowing, didn't they? And then when they got into too much debt with some big time dealers, you got scared. Because that looks bad on you, doesn't it? And so you sent them off into our territory in hopes that they'd make some money, only you weren't expecting us to find out."

"You think you're so smart," Grant Audley said icily.

"I am smart," Ace said smugly. "I also know that you told your men to stay away from us. But they didn't. They want to get money to pay off the dealers, and they're desperate. So they started attacking us, and you could do nothing but follow along and pretend to be calling the shots still. You're the joke here, Grant. _I _thought better of _you_."

Grant's face was almost purple with suppressed rage. His cool was slipping fast and I tried to keep a close eye on his men, knowing that they'd be ready for a fight if he ordered them to do it.

"What?" Grant asked sharply. "Do you have a spy in my men or something?"

"I have the control of this city," Ace smirked. "All of it. It's about time you realized that. Not much goes on that I don't know about."

"Your man stole one of our cars!" Grant spat, sending me a look that spoke of great hostility. I smirked at him, tauntingly. "You're the one who can't control your men, not me. I'm the leader and my men know that. They won't question me. They only obey."

"I told my men to steal that car," Ace lied fluidly. He wasn't the type to throw someone out into the line of fire, especially if it made him look bad. He wasn't going to say that I'd done it without his knowledge or point out the fact that I technically wasn't part of his gang.

"Why?" Grant asked.

"It was supposed to be a message. One your men were obviously too stupid to get," Ace smirked.

Grant was getting restless. He knew he was loosing control of the situation. The worst thing you can do is look weak in the eyes of another leader, and that was exactly what we were implying. His eyes restlessly scanned the small, dark room. They landed on me again and stilled.

"Feeling alright?" He asked, his tone confident again and his eyes smug. "I heard you got roughed up a bit."

I tensed, anger making my blood hot. He was mocking me, trying to get me to fall for his bait. Acting as if he hadn't been there at the bar that night. As if he hadn't told his men to kill me. But I knew if I moved a muscle he'd sick his men on me. They were watching me now, blood lust in their eyes. I scowled at their leader.

"He's fine," Ace laughed a bit and Brick was sending me a warning look. "About ten punks jumped him, but he beat them all. They weren't that good at fighting."

Grant looked me over, his face clouded with thought. His eyes scanned the deep cut on my cheek and took in the bruises on my neck and arms. The cut on my cheek was going to take a while to heal but luckily the swelling had gone down so it didn't look too bad.

"Hm," He said slowly. "Maybe he won't get away that easily next time."

The room was silent with the outright threat and I saw Brick and Ace tense up slightly. Boomer, at my side, shifted with pent up frustration. I discreetly elbowed him, hoping he'd stay put and act smart. He could tell he was mad, but thankfully he kept still. I was pissed as well, but I didn't want him starting something he couldn't finish.

"The deal is," Ace said, his voice dangerous and low. "You keep your men out of our territory and under control. If you can do that, we'll have no other problems. You won't have to worry about cars in the bay or men beaten to pulp in bars."

"And what if that deal doesn't work for me?" Grant Audley asked, sending me another look meant to shake me. I just stared evenly back at him, wondering how good I could punch him with my broken ribs.

Ace leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together.

"Then we can't promise the safety of any of your men," Ace said plainly. It wasn't a threat, it was a fact.

Grant Audley smirked arrogantly.

"I think this meeting is done," He said shortly.

We watched, unmoving, as he and his men left the small dark room. The light bulb swung above us as the door shut and soon we were all lost in our own thoughts. No one said anything for a moment, the air still tense as if the other men were still there.

"Well…" Boomer sighed at last. "Did that go well? Or not? I couldn't exactly tell."

Some of the Gang Greene Gang didn't seem to know either and they all watched Ace for his answer. Ace, for his part, hadn't moved. He was still leaning forward, facing the empty chair. His fingers were still entwined before him and his sunglasses were dark.

"We made him nervous," Brick finally spoke up. "But he's not going to listen to us."

"Why not?" Boomer whined.

"This was bogus," Arturo sighed, his accent thick. "I want a drink, anyone else?"

A few more spoke up, agreeing. After receiving a curt nod from Brick they all filed out of the dark room and into the bar outside. The noises of drunks and glasses clattering filled the room for a moment before the door shut again and we were encased in silence. Only Brick, Boomer, Ace, and I were left in the room.

"He's afraid of us," I said once we were alone. My body was still tense and my anger was still brimming. "Why wouldn't he try to make out an agreement?"

"Yeah," Boomer shrugged. "He's been the leader of the Audley Boys forever. He helped start it. Wouldn't you think he'd try harder to keep it around?"

"You're right," Ace said, speaking for the first time since Grant Audley left. His normal slick tone was gone. "He's been the leader forever. He's watched the gang grow bigger and get deeper into trouble."

"He's losing control," I finally derived.

Ace nodded. "His men probably don't even realize it yet…but yes. He's slowly losing control of them. He was the man in power for so long, he's scared now that he doesn't have it. He's afraid they'll realize he isn't doing much to help them."

"And the thing is," Brick interjected. "He knows that we're right. He knows we're stronger. He's a smart man and an old-fashioned leader, so he probably wants his men to draw back just as bad as us. But he can't keep his men under control and so he's pretending to agree with what they do. He's hoping no one else realizes it."

"What happens when they realize he's not helping?" Boomer asked.

"He'll be useless," Ace shrugged. "They'll dispose of him."

"So…" Boomer scratched the back of his head, his blond hair messing up. "What does all this mean for us?"

"It means we're going to be fighting a lot in the near future," Brick sighed. "The Audley Boys are in debt to some big time dealers. They're afraid. So they aren't going to back down to us. And we're not going to back down to them…"

"So we're going to fight," Boomer smiled. "I like that. But aren't there more of them than there is of us?"

"Yes," Ace smirked. "Much more. But we're stronger and more experienced. And we have tons of small groups of criminals who will do our bidding if we need it. Don't worry, the Gang Greene Gang and the Sawyer brothers will be fine. We'll just have to get our hands dirty."

"That's nothing we aren't used to," Brick smiled confidently.

Ace slapped him on the shoulder, finally allowing his self to fully relax.

"Yeah," Ace grinned. "I'm not worried. I've been itching for a good fight anyway." He turned his head towards me and smirked deeply. "But we're going to hold off the fighting for a little while, okay? We want Butchy-boy in on the action as well."

I nodded. There was no way in hell I was going to miss a fight. Even if I had to fight with a split torso and broken ribs I was going to do it.

--

"Hey, Grubber!" I called for the man down at the other end of the bar. The lights around me were bright compared to the dark room I'd just left and I blinked a bit to help my eyes adjust. I slid into the barstool next to the man.

Grubber was a member of Ace's gang. He was mute but smart. He was also pretty unfortunate looking. He had a jaw that was much too large for his face and eyes that hardly ever blinked. The small tuff of black hair on the top of his head was greasy and sometimes his tongue lulled out the side of his mouth when he wasn't paying attention.

But he was a good fighter. And we'd known him all growing up. I trusted him, to a certain extent, more than some of the other gang members. Probably because he was mute, making him the only other man I knew that spoke less than me.

"Listen," I told him, resting an elbow against the bar and turning on the stool to face him. He was watching me, unblinkingly, as he sipped on his beer. "I need you to help me with something. Are you up for a quick heist tomorrow night?"

He nodded enthusiastically.

"Good," I smirked. "But it's just going to be me and you, okay? No one else."

He nodded again.

"Do you still have that truck?" I asked.

He smiled, showing the few teeth he had left from his years of fighting.

"Good." I nodded.

--

It was around four in the morning by the time I got back home. I let myself into my apartment and looked around. The air stilled smelled of burnt food and everything looked straight. I frowned, however, when I noticed Bubbles wasn't around. I listened for her, but couldn't hear her in the kitchen or the bathroom.

"Shit," I muttered, for a second I wondered if she'd changed her mind and ran back to her ex-fiancé. Surely after hanging around this hellhole for a little while she'd realized her mistake.

My previously decent mood disappeared as I backtracked into the hallway. I walked towards Mrs. Anderson's door, feeling slightly annoyed that I had to keep up with this girl. But, what had I expected? I'd planned to look out for her, right?

"Butch?" Mrs. Anderson asked, not sounding too shocked to see me standing outside her door at an ungodly hour. She was in a ratty night robe and her hair was up in curlers, but she didn't look like I'd woken her. Her voice wasn't the least bit slurred with sleep.

"Did you happen to see Be-Bubbles leave?" I asked, stumbling pathetically on the girl's name when I realized Mrs. Anderson wouldn't have a clue to who I was talking about.

"She didn't leave," Mrs. Anderson smiled patiently. She stepped aside a bit to allow me to enter. "She's right in here."

I nodded and walked inside. Sure enough Bubbles was there. She was sitting on a wooden chair, Mrs. Anderson's phone pressed against her ear. She was wearing a pink night robe that was probably borrowed from the older woman standing behind me and her hair was braided messily down her back.

"Yes, I-" She was saying to the phone. Her voice was hushed but I could hear her exasperation. "Yes, Blossom, I'm fine…No…No…Yes…Okay. Okay, but you need to-….would you listen to me?...Blossom, please just let me talk….Yeah, I get you're confused. I'm confused to….Ugh. Yes!...Yes…."

"She's been going on like that for hours," Mrs. Anderson smiled ironically as she walked over to get some tea off the stove. She set out three chipped cups and moved her arm to indicate that I should sit. I did so, but kept my eyes on the blonde girl on the phone.

I was relieved to find her here, and not running back to her fiancé, but I wasn't too fond of her stressed mood. I felt like taking the phone and hanging it up for her. Whoever she was talking to was undoubtedly making her upset.

"Who's she talking to?" I asked as Mrs. Anderson poured me some tea. I hated the stuff but I said nothing.

"Her sister," She laughed lightly. "She came over here to talk for a while, and then asked if she could use my phone. She was just going to tell her sister about breaking off her engagement, but the conversation escalated from there."

I could hear the voice on the other line from where I sat. I couldn't make out the words, but the tone was stressed and talking a million miles a minute. Bubbles was struggling to keep up, which is saying something. Bubbles practically took the gold medal in talking fast.

"_Blossom_," Bubbles said in a tired tone. "Just…yes! Yes, I'm sure I'm fine….No, you don't need to come get me."

"They're talking in circles," Mrs. Anderson whispered as she pulled out a small flask and poured some rum into her tea. She caught my amused look and slid the flask over to me. "This makes it taste better." She explained as I poured some into my drink as well.

"I have to go now," Bubbles was trying to say. She had to repeat it a few times before her sister even heard. "Okay, I'll call you later…Yes, I'm positive that I'm okay. Okay, bye."

She sighed and stood to hang up the phone. Once she was done she leaned up against the wall, rubbing her temples a bit and frowning distractedly. I watched her closely and after a second she looked over and saw me. She jumped, startled. She obviously had been too distracted to notice me before.

"Butch?" She asked, her tone hushed due to the sleeping kids in the other room.

"Hey," I said simply as I took a swig of tea. It was more rum than tea and I liked the taste of it.

"Sit down dear," Mrs. Anderson smiled. "You look exhausted."

"I'm sorry to keep you up so late," Bubbles said sincerely as she took her seat across from me. She scooted her teacup absentmindedly across the table's surface. "I didn't realize the phone call would last that long. I hope I didn't wake any of the kids."

"It's quite alright," Mrs. Anderson waved off the apology. "Your sister sounds…persistent."

Bubbles laughed, brushing the hair that had came loose out of her eyes and back behind her ear. She spared me a brief look and smile before looking back at the older woman. Her cheeks were slightly red and I knew she was embarrassed I'd heard her debate with her sister.

"She's very persistent," Bubbles agreed. "She always has been. It's not in her nature to just give up on something."

"Which is why she doesn't understand your breakup," Mrs. Anderson finished sagely.

Bubbles' blush darkened and I shifted in my seat. I didn't want to hear this kind of talk. I knew this would lead to talk about emotions and feelings. I wasn't into that. And I especially didn't want to hear all the reasons Bubbles' sister wanted Bubbles to stay with Andrew.

"She understands it," Bubbles said quickly. "She's just worried about me."

I looked her over. What was there to be worried about? She seemed fine.

"Yes," Mrs. Anderson nodded. "Coming out of a long-term relationship is hard. Usually a little piece of you stays with the other person forever."

I raised an eyebrow. Was she _serious_?

Bubbles shrugged, sending me a nervous look from the corner of her eyes. "I'm fine, really. We'll talk about this later."

"Of course," Mrs. Anderson agreed wholeheartedly. She sent me a look as well, but I couldn't read it. I felt as if she was gauging my reaction, but as usual I gave none. I just sat emotionlessly as they both tried to pretend as if I wasn't really there.

"Are you ready to leave?" I asked at last.

"Oh, yeah, sorry!" Bubbles said hastily. She leaned over and hugged the older woman tightly around the shoulders. "I'm sorry again for keeping you up this late. We'll finish our conversation tomorrow. I'll stop by after I'm done with work, okay?"

"That sounds great," Mrs. Anderson smiled. "I get off work at two."

We all stood up and Mrs. Anderson ushered us to the door. I held it open to let Bubbles through but before I could leave Mrs. Anderson grabbed my arm and held me back. I shifted, looking down at the older woman with a frown. She was looking up at me, her expression was that of a stern mother.

"You be good to her," She told me in a quiet, firm tone. "She might act all tough and sure, but she's not. She's just as insecure and doubtful as any other woman in her situation would be. I trust you to look out for her. You better not make me regret that later."

I said nothing, only nodded at her. She let go of my arm and gave me a look before shutting her door. I wondered how many other people held me responsible for the blonde girl now. I also wondered why I didn't mind the assumption too much. I sighed and turned away. I saw Bubbles standing in front of my door, looking curiously back at me. A small smile was on her lips.

"Why did you come by?" She asked as I reached her.

"I didn't know where you went," I said, giving her an annoyed glare but it felt forced.

She rolled her eyes at me like I was two. "I left you note, smart guy."

I raised and eyebrow. "Did you?"

She grinned. "Yeah."

I ignored her mocking look as I opened up the door. She trailed after me, stretching her arms above her head and groaning as her back arched. I wondered if she knew how attractive she was. Even in the oversized nightgown she was making my blood pump a bit faster.

"I'm going to sleep on the floor," She said as she shut the door and reached over and locked it.

"No, you're not," I told her immediately. Almost a reflex.

"Yes, I am," She shot back childishly. I was tired but I wasn't going to back down from the fight.

"You're sleeping on the couch," I said firmly, calmly.

"You're injured," She reminded me as if I could forget. "You need to sleep on the couch."

I shook my head. "No."

"Ugh. Yes!" She snapped. "You sleep on the couch or I'm going to hurt you worse then the Audley Boys did."

I scoffed. "_Right_."

"You're so frustrating," She smacked my shoulder. Hard. I raised an eyebrow, a bit impressed but she was already storming away. "I can't wait for Ace to bring my mattress over. Then I can move back into my apartment."

I remembered the mattress still strapped to Ace's car and laughed.

"Yeah," I smirked. "Then you can live in an apartment with a mattress and two lamps."

"I bought a small refrigerator today," She told me smartly. She was grabbing the spare pillow and sheet from the closet. I watched her, amused that she actually thought she was sleeping on the floor. Poor, misguided little girl.

"Where?" I asked, leaning back against the wall and watching her.

"The man on the second floor is moving down to Florida," She began to smile, her bad moods never lasted too long. "He doesn't need any of his old stuff anymore, so he's selling it for really cheap. I went down and bought some of it."

I nodded. "What'd you buy?"

"A fridge, a microwave…a couch," She said thoughtfully. "I'm going to help him move it up to my apartment tomorrow."

"He didn't rip you off, did he?" I asked, moving to help her grab the extra blanket off the top shelf. It was getting colder and colder each day and the heater in my apartment wasn't doing too good to keep up. Sleep was only going to be accomplished if you had a few layers of bedding.

"No," She grinned as she stepped aside. I reached up and grabbed the blanket, dropping it into her ready arms. "I actually got him to drop his price a lot."

I raised an eyebrow. "How?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. At first he was asking for a lot of money. When I asked if he could drop the price he said no. But then…" She paused, blushing slightly and looking down at the folded blanket in her arms. "Then he asked who I was. I told him and he dropped the price."

I wondered briefly if she was lying, but her face told me she was telling the truth. She was a horrible liar and usually her eyes gave her away. But still, someone dropped the price because she told him her name? That seemed suspicious. It was possible the guy had taken a liking to her and thought he could score if he did her a favor.

'_I might have to rearrange this guy's face…_'

Oddly enough Bubbles seemed to read my thoughts, although I was stoic. "He's an older man," She told me hastily. Maybe my eyes had begun to display my rising temper a bit more than I thought.

"Then why did he drop the price?" I asked.

"Why are you pushing this?" She asked, looking away from me.

"Why are you avoiding the question?" I asked.

She blushed. "I'm not. It's just…it's stupid."

"Betty…" I said slowly.

She raised her chin stubbornly before her shoulder slumped and she sighed with defeat. "He dropped the price because he recognized my name. He knows I'm the girl who's staying with you and….and—"

"And he dropped the price because he didn't want to piss me off," I finally guessed.

"Yeah," Bubbles sighed. "I think he was afraid of your or something."

Most people are. But I guess she didn't really know that. How could she? All she heard was small talk around the diner. Even when they mentioned me there she could hardly grasp the whole concept of what I was. Everything she knew, she didn't realize how important it all really was.

"Are a lot of people going to treat me differently?" She asked me. "You know, because I'm your friend."

_Friend_. Hah. I didn't know what we were exactly, but the word friend wasn't exactly how I'd label it. She seemed to feel the same way too, because the word sounded hollow and her eyes were unsure. We weren't friends anymore. I don't think either of us knew exactly what to label each other.

"Yeah," I told her bluntly. "They are."

She frowned, not seeming to like that idea. "Even when I move back into my apartment? Will they still treat me different then?"

I nodded and she sighed.

"Great," I heard her mutter with annoyance. "Stupid fate. Thanks so much, mom."

I frowned and raised an eyebrow. She just ignored my look and walked around me. She tossed the blanket and pillow on the ground next to the pull out couch. She bent over and tried to arrange it but she was conscious of my gaze and her movements were awkward.

"Now I only need stuff for my bedroom and some dishes," She said after a moment.

She moved to lie down but I grabbed her arm and practically tossed her onto the bed. She let out and indignant sound and glared up at me. I ignored her and lowered myself to the hard ground. It hurt but it was bearable. Soon I settled against the pillow and pulled the blanket around me. I was still wearing my jeans and clothes but it didn't matter. I wasn't going to have much time to sleep anyway. I had to go to work.

"Butch?" I heard her call after a while. The apartment was dark and I stared up at the ceiling, waiting for her to continue. "I can do this, right?" She asked softly. Almost desperately. "I can live without him, right?"

I said nothing. Why was she asking me this? Wasn't this something her sister or one of her friends could help her with? I was a particularly selfish person. I wasn't going to be forthcoming and helpful.

"Can you?" I asked finally. I wanted to know the answer too.

I heard her shift up on the bed. She let out a breath. "I'm kind of nervous," She admitted. "I've known him forever. There's never been a part of my life where I haven't had him around. Everything was always planned for the two of us. Now that we're not together, it's almost as if I lost that safety net. I've lost that reassurance that there's a plan for my future."

Again I kept quiet, digesting this. To my relief, she didn't sound as if she missed him. She only missed the safety that life had provided her. It had always been there, a backup plan and a safety net to catch her if she fell. Now she broke away from the one thing she's always known and she was afraid.

"Don't be afraid," I said at last, my voice quiet and deadpanned.

"I can't help it," She laughed oddly. "Fate is a scary thing."

"Yeah, well I'm right here," I said into the darkness.

'_I'm your safety net now_…'

--

"There were three of them," Boomer was telling me, his voice hushed. "I was walking out of the store, and there they were. I didn't recognize any of them, but the tattoos on their faces were dead giveaways. They followed me for a few blocks but I managed to shake them."

"They didn't follow you here, did they?" I asked over the hum of a nearby engine. It rattled before shutting off. The mechanic cursed and tried again.

"No," Boomer said. "I lost them way before I started headed this way. I didn't want them to know where you worked, but I had to come tell you." I knew he didn't fight them because Ace had told him not to. Fighting them would just cause a bigger fight, and Ace didn't think I wasn't ready to participate in that.

I sighed and I nodded, looking around the garage. No one was paying us much mind and I pushed Boomer towards the corner where a small table was. We both sat down and Boomer leaned in so that he could be heard above all the noise. His blond hair was a mess.

"Are you carrying a gun?" He asked me, his eyes steady.

"Yeah," I nodded. I always tried to carry a gun.

"Good," He sighed. "I just...I worry about you. How are your ribs healing?"

"Fine," I shrugged. "It's too soon to tell if they're healing right, but it's a little less painful then when I woke up yesterday."

"Good," He nodded. "What about the knife wound?"

"The stitches itch like hell," I muttered irritably. "But the skin on the ends is already starting to heal. It won't take too long, but it'll scar pretty bad."

"She sewed you up pretty good, huh?" He asked, smiling in his goofy way. I rolled my eyes.

"It's healing," I said simply.

"Boomer!" Harper's voice had us both turning to look up at him. "I haven't seen you around in a while."

"Hang around the bars," I told Harper snidely. "You'll see him there."

Boomer just laughed. "What can I say? I like to drink."

"I heard you got into a pinch at a bar the other day," Harper said, nodding at me.

I frowned and shrugged.

"Got scratched pretty bad, didn't you?" He asked in that way that said he already knew.

"Yeah," Boomer smiled, answering him for me anyway. "But don't worry, his girlfriend sewed him up real good. A regular nurse, that one. We should get her one of those outfits that—"

Before Boomer could blink or finish I punched him roughly against the temple. His head snapped to the side and Harper reached to hold me back but I was already stepping away. I paced a bit, seeing red. Boomer's dark blue eyes were wide with shock and pain at first, before they brightened with amusement. I knew from experience that one punch wasn't enough to shut this kid up.

"Easy," Harper was telling me. "Easy kid, you don't want to start trouble with your own brother."

"Nah," Boomer laughed, rubbing at the swelling side of his face. It was already turning red and I smirked, satisfied. "It's okay Harper, Butch is just letting out his aggression. He has all this pent up energy, you see, because his girlfriend won't fuc-"

"Woah," Harper grunted as he and two other men grabbed me to hold me back. Boomer jumped a few feet away, sensing my anger and avoiding my wrath. I struggled against my captures, trying to get to Boomer in an effort to lay him out with another punch.

"Take it easy, man," One of the men holding me back tried to say, but I wasn't really focusing on them. I was staring rigidly at Boomer, my fists tight and my blood pumping. My ribs were throbbing with pain from the first punch I'd thrown and the gash across my chest was stinging.

"Boomer," Harper sighed. "How about you go into my office and sit for a while, okay? Butch, do you need to go take a walk to cool off?"

"No," I said stubbornly. The only thing that would remotely begin to cool me off would be to wipe that look off my brother's face.

"We fight all the time," Boomer was saying truthfully. "It's our way of bonding."

"Bond on your own time," Harper gave him a warning look. "I don't need a brawl in here. I have some expensive parts I don't want you two idiots to break."

"Yeah," I called to Boomer in a harsh voice. "Let's step outside. We can 'bond' there."

"No thanks," Boomer said, reaching up and tenderly touching the bruise I'd just given him. "I've bonded enough for one day."

I went to tell him off but Harper motioned Boomer into his office. Boomer didn't object and quickly tried to move out of my line of sight. I heard him lock the door behind him, trying to find a way to keep me out. He stared out the glass window at me, made a face, and quickly shut the blinds.

"Well," Harper sighed. "That's more excitement than I was expecting."

"He's an ass," I muttered.

"Yeah, most brothers are," Harper said, giving me an assessing look. "You go take a walk and cool off." He instructed.

"I'm fine," I said stiffly, shaking off the hands of the other mechanics.

"I said take a walk," Harper repeated, more firm.

I sighed and walked out, throwing an annoyed glance behind me to see Boomer looking out the office window, a bemused smiled on his face.

--

It was raining when I walked outside, which was great. Just fucking perfect. I waded into the gray mess of the city, my breath warm and clouding the cold air around me. It had gotten cold particularly fast this year and some ice was beginning to mix with the rain. I wasn't in the mood to go back to work, so I pushed against the people that were rushing by me in order to get out of the weather. I aimed to make my way home.

A few people nodded at me, or stopped me to ask about the fight. I said what I could to keep them moving along, and kept going. My shirt was practically molding to me in the cold rain and I blinked to keep it out of my eyes. I ran a hand through my hair, distracted and wet and irritated.

I was irritated with Boomer, sure, but only slightly so. Boomer was Boomer. He'd always been an annoyance. He knew just how to push your buttons and make you break. He was basically childish, but my exasperation with him never lasted more than a day or two. He was what he was, and he was my brother. He only pushed my limits because that was who he was.

Mostly I was irritated with everything else. My injuries, my limitations, the Audley Boys, the rain…

About three blocks from my apartment building I got the feeling like I was being watched. I set my shoulders and tried to appear confident despite the icy rain that was soaking me. It dripped from my jaw and shoulders and through my dampened shirt you could see the outline of my gun.

Finally I turned sharply into a small convenience store, feeling oddly paranoid. The heating in the store was on full blast but I still felt chilled as I moved beside the door, my eyes watching the windows closely.

Soon a group of about five men walked by, their eyes meeting mine briefly through the window. Each one had a blue skull tattoo on their face and the outline of a gun beneath their soaked clothes. I watched them stoically as they passed by. The store clerk was watching me threateningly but he was hardly what I was thinking about.

"Can I use your phone?" I asked, sounding extremely pissed.

The clerk hesitated and I could tell he wanted to say no. But then he looked me over, taking in the gash on my cheek and the bulge of my gun. He seemed to put two and two together and he quickly pasted a nervous, appeasing smile on his face.

"Of course," He said, reaching beneath the counter and pulling the phone up to the top. He sat it down and stepped away. I nodded at him and grabbed it off the receiver. Quickly I dialed my work number and pressed it to my ear. I listened to it ring for a few times.

"Yeah?" Came Harper's gruff voice from the other line.

"Put Boomer on the phone," I commanded. Harper asked no questions and I could hear the slightly muffled sounds of him talking to Boomer. Finally the phone was handed over.

"Yo bro'," Boomer said animatedly on the other end. I rolled my eyes.

"Those men who were following you, how man were there again?" I pressed.

"Three, I think," He answered, not sounding serious but I knew he was paying attention.

"Three? Not five?" I asked.

"There could have been five of them, I'm not sure," Boomer admitted. "I was walking away from them the whole time, I couldn't exactly count. Why? What's going on?"

"You didn't lose them," I said, feeling oddly tired. "They followed you to my work. Now they're following me."

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I dove into a store but they saw me come in. They're probably waiting for me outside."

I heard the store clerk whimper at that and I sent him a look. He walked away quickly, trying not to get caught eavesdropping again. I noticed how he still stayed near by, his head tilted towards me. He was waiting to hear if he was in danger I'm sure.

"Do you want me to come around from the other side?" Boomer was asking. "I could get them from the back. They won't be looking for me."

"No," I said sharply. "You get to Brick and hang around him today. Don't go off on your own or do anything stupid, got it?"

"Yeah, sure," Boomer agreed, but telling Boomer not to do anything stupid was like telling a dog he couldn't lick himself. Completely pointless. "Are you going to be okay? Should I send some of the gang over to back you up?"

"No," I said firmly. "I'm fine."

There was a short silence before we both awkwardly hung up the phone. I sighed and leaned against the counter, hanging my head and closing my eyes. My temples were pounding as if my brain was trying to break out of my skull and I winced. This was getting to be too much. I really just wanted to go out there and shoot those men, but I knew I couldn't.

There were five of them, after all, and I was hardly invincible despite what I generally like to think.

"Done with the phone?" The clerk asked. I didn't move or open my eyes for a moment, wishing he'd just go away. But finally I stepped back away from the counter and watched him put the phone back away. I debated on if I should go out there and get shot immediately or stay in the store and get shot later.

"This is fucking perfect," I said cynically. I pushed my wet black hair away from my eyes and stared up at the fluorescent lights.

"There is always…the back door," The store clerk's voice drew be back to reality and I looked back down at him.

"What?" I asked, irritated with him for no reason.

"The back door is trough there," He said, pointing towards an archway that was covered by a sheet. "It leads into the alley behind the building."

"They'll be in the alley too," I said simply, not finding it too strange that he was helping me. After all, I was there in front of him, angry and carrying a gun. He was smart to help me out.

"No," He said, shaking his head. "There's a gate on both side of my building. It's tall. No one can get into the back alley without coming through here," He smiled proudly. "There's even some barbed wire on the top. I can't have any punks breaking in that way."

I said nothing for a moment, considering this.

"So how am I supposed to get out?" I asked.

"Follow the alley. It goes behind all the buildings on the whole block. When the block ends, there will be another fence. That fence isn't as strong as mine. It has been pulled back around the bottom. You can slip out through that," He instructed.

"If you're lying to me…" I began, my voice low and threatening and I stepped towards him.

"I'm not!" He assured me quickly. "Follow the back alley."

I stared at him for a moment before sighing. I didn't have any other choice. If anything I could jump the fence and hope I didn't get caught up in the barbed wire. I'd done it before when I was younger, and I could do it again if I had to.

"Fine," I said, nodding at him and moving towards the back of the store. I walked through the archway, pushing the sheet out of my way, and saw the door leading outside. I leaned up against it, cracking it open. The cold air rushed inside.

"Go," The store clerk was telling me.

I slipped outside and looked around the dreary back alley. There wasn't much to it. Rain was pelting me again and the slick concrete below my feet was covered in puddles. The space between the buildings was tight and I could see the fences he was talking about. They were pretty tall. Not an easy climb, that was for sure. And sure enough there was barbwire stretched up along the top.

I paid it little mind and walked dutifully down the stretch. I stepped over bits of trash and storage crates, my feet kicking up water and padding silently against the concrete. I hated to run away from a fight and my every bone protested my actions but I knew I couldn't stop.

Finally I got to the end of the block. A tall fence greeted me and I stared dubiously at it. I walked over and kicked at the bottom. The metal links had been pushed up and they folded out of my way as I hit them again. I sighed gratefully and crouched down to get under. The metal links scraped my back a bit but I ignored the dull pain. Pain got easy to ignore after a while.

--

When I got to my apartment Bubbles was already there. She'd been there for a while, if her dry clothes and hair were any indication. She heard me step in but she didn't turn to greet me. I shut the door and locked it, feeling more than mildly irritated with the whole damn day.

I looked over to see her standing in front of my window. The glass was foggy and she was resting one her hands against it, her fingers bent slightly. Her blue eyes were watching the rain fall outside, the gray light coming in making her paler than normal. Her blonde hair was down and loose around her shoulders. It trailed down her back and I looked over the curve of her hips.

Finally she turned to greet me, a small smile on her face. It disappeared quickly when she noted my foul mood. I waited for her to ask about it but she didn't. She remained silent and pensive, staring at my cold face and dripping form. Her blue eyes were apprehensive.

"I hate the rain," I was muttering beneath my breath. In truth I wasn't even aware of what I was saying, the words just kept spilling out. I cursed my day, my luck, my brother, the bad weather…everything. My tension mounted up within me and I felt like I was going to snap at any second.

There was trashcan near me and I kicked at it, feeling vaguely satisfied when it toppled over and spilled everywhere. I felt her watching me still and I paced angrily. My fists were clenched and my breathing was erratic. I shoved a nearby lamp off a table. It fell to the floor but didn't break.

Still she said nothing.

"And I had to run away," I told her, as if she had any idea what I was raving about. "Through a back alley and under a fence. I ran away like a fucking coward."

Still she said noting.

"And they're going to know I ran away too," I bit out, still pacing. "When I don't come out of the store, they'll know I ran away."

She stood still, watching me quietly. Her face was worried but not scared. Her hands were clasped behind her back.

"Well?" I snapped at her. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

My harsh tone and violent behavior didn't seem to intimidate her. She just tilted her head, her eyes still concerned and her expression soft.

"You're bleeding," She said simply.

I looked down at my stomach but there was no blood there. I was relieved that I didn't reopen my cut, but then I touched the wound on my cheek. I pulled my fingers away and frowned when I saw no blood there either. I glanced up at her, confused.

"Your back," She explained. "The back of your shirt is stained with blood."

Without much thought I reached down and pulled my shirt up over my head. It was sodden with cold rainwater and I tossed it carelessly into a corner. I could see the blood on it from where I stood. I remembered the fence scraping against me when I was going under it.

"I'll go get some rubbing alcohol and iodine," She said, moving towards the bathroom where I kept some medical supplies. Since I never went to a hospital I had to have some stuff around so that I didn't completely fall apart.

I still felt restless and couldn't seem to stop pacing, even as I heard her rummaging through the medical kit. I was antsy with stress, my head pounding. The stinging pain on my back barely even registered. I wanted to fight someone or steal something. I needed to calm down but I knew I couldn't. I was too angry to stay inside.

"Come sit down," Bubbles instructed as she walked back in the room. She indicated to the bed that was still pulled out from the night before.

"No," I told her, moving towards the door.

"Butch, please," She said. It was her tone that made me stop. "You can't go back outside. You're hurt and wet and shirtless. You'll catch pneumonia and then where will we be?"

"I can't sit down right now," I told her, my stoic voice a bit angry.

She was frowning at me, her eyes narrowed with determination. We were both stubborn and I knew this wasn't going to play out well. She wasn't going to let me leave and I wasn't going to stay. She knew this too, I could tell.

"Sit down," She told me firmly.

"You can't tell me what to do," I shot back.

I waited for her inane reply but she didn't say anything. She simply sat the medicine bottles on the bed and started walking towards me. I watched her warily. She drew up close to me, only a short reach away, and looked up at me with no trace of malice.

"You can't go outside," She said finally. "I want you to stay in here."

I began to tell her that I didn't care what she wanted, but stopped. Her hand was reaching out and I watched it as it came closer. Her small fingers gripped the handle of my gun. I'd forgotten about it and didn't even realize until then that she had noticed it. She pulled it out of its hold and held it away from us. She sat it down on the table with a soft click.

"You don't need that," She told me, but she wasn't being condescending. Her hand came up and touched my cheek delicately, her fingers brushing against the gash so lightly that I didn't feel any pain. She was frowning softly. "You keep getting hurt." She said quietly. "And I just want it to stop."

I wanted it to stop too. All of it, at least for a day. I was tired. I could deal with the Audley Boys and everything else later. I just wanted to rest and be warm and better. I was annoyed with the gash across my stomach and cheek. I was sick of being limited by all the wounds.

I let her lead me over to the edge of the bed. She sat me down and I hunched over, my elbows on my knees and my face buried in my hands. My headache was slightly easing but still there. The tension in my muscles was still tight. I could feel my blood trailing down my back.

"This will sting," Bubbles was now sitting behind me on the bed. I said nothing to her and soon a damp rag was pressed against my back. I felt the sting instantly as the cold rubbing alcohol began to work its way into my cut. She was wiping at it gingerly but I still winced microscopically.

She worked to clean out the three long cuts on my back. They were basically shallow, so I wasn't too worried about them, but she was adamant about it. I could feel the fabric of the bandage on her left hand as she worked and I thought about her burn. It seemed we just kept getting hurt. I wondered if there was anyway to stop it. If there was I'd take it. Not for myself, but for her. She didn't need to be getting hurt.

"Do you want to tell me about your day now?" She asked calmly. Her tone mixed with the sound of the icy rain outside and I didn't say anything for a moment. "Calmly please, if you don't mind." She added teasingly.

I thought about Boomer, the Audley Boys, and running away. My already tense muscles tightened and I pushed my forehead against the palms of my hands. My day had completely sucked, and thinking about it wasn't helping. Talking about it surely wasn't going to help either.

"Did that man bring up your stuff?" I asked instead.

I could practically hear her smile. "Yeah, Mrs. Anderson and I helped him get it in. It all works just fine, so I'm glad I bought them. My apartment is almost completely restored. Ace is dropping of my mattress and lamps later. I just need a few more things and I'll be done."

"It's kind of bare," I said simply.

She laughed and I could feel her breath again my skin. She was rubbing iodine on my cuts now and I tried to focus on her laugh instead. "Your apartment is bare too," Se said teasingly. "So don't make fun. We work with what we've got."

"But you're going to be living in the city now, right?" I asked. "Don't you want your apartment to look better than…mine?"

"Yes, I guess I will be living in the city from now on," She conceded. "And eventually my apartment will look fine. It's just right now it won't. But that's okay. I'll live with it."

It still shocked me sometimes to hear her determination. Part of me expected her to whine horribly or complain at every turn, but I was beginning to get that wasn't her style. She wasn't going to admit defeat so readily. Even when she doubted herself, you had to catch her at the right time to see her express that.

"So, your day was horrible?" She asked, trying to change the conversation away from her dingy apartment.

"That's one word for it," I said dryly. "I could think of a few other words that could describe it too."

"I know," She muttered. "I heard them when you first walked in. You have a very colorful vocabulary. I don't think I knew what half of those words you said even meant. I don't even want to know, do I?"

I chuckled. "No, I'll spare you."

"Thanks," She laughed. I heard her pop the lid back onto the iodine. She was done. We didn't move. "So…are you calm yet?"

"Not really," I replied honestly. My face was still buried in my hands and I knew if looked up I'd see the fallen lamp and turned over trashcan. Both were testaments of my quick temper and agitation. I wondered if she was thinking about that too.

"You have a lot on your plate, don't you?" She asked and I felt the mattress move as she shifted.

"Everyone does," I said plainly. "I'm just better at pretending I don't. But when it all piles up I sort of get frustrated. I usually fight, but my ribs won't let me move too much so dodging and punches will hurt. "

"You have issues calming back down," She commented.

"Quick temper," I explained. "It doesn't fade as quickly as it starts. In fact, nothing can really make me calm down. I just have to slowly let the stress weaken."

"Am _I_ stressing you out?" She seemed genuinely curious and I sighed softly.

"No, not right now," I replied. I heard her giggle.

"Here, I'll try to help you calm down," She offered. "Do you want something to eat? A beer maybe?"

"I could use a massage," My tone was deadpan and she didn't reply.

I opened my mouth to tell her I was joking, but unexpectedly I felt her hands come up and rest on both of my shoulders. I sat unmoving and for a second nothing happened. I said nothing and she said nothing, neither of us moved. The rain outside and the sound of her slow breathing was the only evidence that time moved on.

At last, after what seemed like tense hours but was only seconds, her hands began moving. She had small, petite hands but the strength in them stunned me. She was hesitant in the beginning, but once I didn't stop her she grew more confident. Her fingers pressed against my skin and she kneaded my muscles.

I felt her shift forward, her knees on either side of my hips and her stomach touching my back when she breathed. Her small hands found each knot of tension and worked at it, pressing against it and rubbing. A whole different kind of tension ran through me, and I ached in a different way.

"Betty," I said roughly, my face still buried in my hands but my eyes were wide open now.

She didn't stop or reply, she just trailed her hands down my spine, pressing and loosening my muscles as she went. When she got to the base of my back she started back up. It was a never-ending process, though. When she'd loosen one tension knot, I'd just tense up again somewhere else. She'd move there and I'd do the same thing all over again.

"_Betty_," I repeated, my voice almost hoarse and my mind slowly becoming foggy.

Again she said nothing, her small hands on my shoulder blades and her slightly calloused fingers against my skin. I was slipping slowly away from myself. I could feel it. This strange detachment from reality. And if she didn't stop soon I wouldn't be able to control my reaction to her. I wouldn't be able to stop and I knew she wasn't aware what she was doing to me. If I reacted she'd be terrified. I'd scare her.

I didn't want to scare her.

"_Fuck_. Bubbles." I said, pulling my head up but not able to move away. I stared blankly at the wall in front of me, not really seeing it. Her menstruations were all I could focus on. I tried to think of what to say to stop her, but my mouth wouldn't form the words. I realized I was truly a selfish creature. I didn't want her to stop, even if I knew she should.

Abruptly she shifted again. She was pressed fully against my back now, her knees digging into my sides, her breasts touching the stretch across my shoulder blades, and her hands lightly grabbing my shoulders. She dipped her head, her hair spilling out against my bare skin, and she pressed a gentle kiss to the side of my neck.

It was a small, gentle, innocent kiss. She did it hesitantly and thoughtfully. But to me it was the breaking point. I felt something in me shift and I moved swiftly around, hardly loosing any contact with her. Within seconds she was pressed to the bed and I was pressed to her.

"Um…" She mumbled, confused.

"You should have stopped," I tried to tell her, but I couldn't. I was too busy kissing her. My lips were against her temple, her cheekbone, the hollow of her cheek, her jaw. I bit at the underside of her jaw and heard her whimper. I couldn't tell if it was from fear but I wasn't really trying that hard to decipher it.

I kissed at the pulse of her neck, marking it. I licked the hot dip of her collarbone and the sensitive skin there made her squirm against me. I did it again, liking the way it felt when she writhed. My hands found hers and I moved to draw them up and pin them above her head, but she wasn't letting me.

With mounting frustration I bit at her neck again, finding that sensitive spot and making her moan. My jeans were suddenly too tight and the room was too hot. I panted against her skin and kissed it again. She smelled like food from the diner and honey and I felt myself grow harder.

I tried again to pull her hands up above her head, my mind incoherent and not understanding why she wasn't letting me. It felt so good to be touching her and her skin was so hot it was like fire. I didn't stop kissing her, even as she tried to hide her hands underneath her.

"Butch," I thought I heard her whisper, but I was a million realities away. I just pressed myself closer, my lips moving for the dip of her shirt and with one smooth motion I had ripped down the front, sending the buttons flying everywhere. I heard her giggle. "Butch, my love, please stop." I thought she was saying, but instead she was just moaning out.

I nudged the shirt open in an effort to see her. To my body's despair she was still wearing a shirt beneath it and I could see the outline of her bra. Her chest was rising and falling with heaving breaths and I could hear her trying to tell me something and I tried hard to focus on her words.

"My love," I thought she whimpered, but her breath was mingled with mine and I had to press my lips to hers. "Please," She said between incessant kisses. "Calm" Another kiss. "Down." I tried to pull up, but to my dismay she was kissing me back and I molded my lips possessively against hers. My body lay over her.

One last time I moved to grab her hands, the dark, heady need to see all of her laid out for me coursing through my veins. My want for her was unyielding, and breathtakingly strong. I'd never slipped so far. I'd never felt so feverish and insatiable.

But again she stopped me and this time I let her. I pressed a claiming kiss against her collarbone as I felt her thread her fingers through mine. I paused, my face buried against her and our bodies pushed so close that there was no way she could have missed what was pressing against her lower stomach.

"Calm down," She was saying gently. I could barely make out her words over the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears. But I did hear her, and I fought to listen. "Calm down. It's okay Butch, calm down." She was repeating, her breathing fast.

I felt her squeeze at our entwined hands, her thumb rubbing soothing circles against the back of my hand. This gesture seemed to clear my mind a bit. I blinked, still needing, and pulled back to look down at her. She was flushed and panting, her blonde hair spread out around her like some sort of halo.

"I…" I tried to say, but my voice was rough with lust and I stopped. I swallowed thickly and tried again. "Did I hurt you?"

She laughed at that, a genuinely giddy, amused laugh. Her blue eyes weren't frightened or nervous. She was just regarding me thoughtfully, a compassionate gleam about her. She squeezed my and again and shook her head, her cheeks a bright red.

"No," She said, her voice light and pleasing. "I'm not hurt."

I shifted, slightly amazed at my own loss of control. I never lost control. Ever. If I hadn't…if I hadn't stopped I could have…

"Shit, Bubbles," I said hoarsely. I was still pressed against her, my lower anatomy digging into her stomach. I tried to detach my self immediately, feeling suddenly fearful that I was going to slip back again. Afraid I'd lose my grip on her and everything else except for my want.

"Shh," She smiled, not allowing me to move off her. Her hand was pressing against my back, keeping me against her and careful not to brush up against my scrapes. Her other hands was still gripping mine and squeezing it reassuringly. "It's okay."

"It's not okay," I said. If there was one thing I was sure of at that moment, it was that what I did was far from okay. It was the opposite of okay. Sure I wanted to sleep with her, but giving in to my instincts like that? That wasn't me. I never lost control.

"It _is_ okay," She assured me, sending me a slightly exasperated look. I tried again to roll away from her, but her grip on me was firm. I would have forced myself off of her, but I was still afraid I'd already hurt her. Concern and self-loathing churned in my stomach and I scanned her for any signs of pain.

"I wasn't trying to scare you," I told her quickly.

"I wasn't scared," She seemed to smile at me with a bit of amusement. As if my distressed state was humorous to her. I realized in the back of my mind that it probably was. She never saw me as anything but cold and stoic. My stressed out actions were probably entertaining her.

"Bubbles," I tried to get through to her and stress how horrible I had just been. "I couldn't even hear you trying to talk to me. I was so far gone. If I hadn't stopped—"

"But you did stop," She said simply. "You wanted to go further but you stopped."

"But—"

"But nothing else matters," She was grinning teasingly. "I promise you, I'm fine. You didn't hurt me, you didn't scare me, and you stopped. It's all okay."

"How can it be okay?" I asked her, feeling a bit angry but struggling to hide it. How could she possibly not be afraid at the raw hunger I'd shown her? Still I was press up against her, hard and needing. Why wasn't she disgusted?

"You just needed to calm down," She said, looking away from me and blushing a bit.

I sighed and allowed my self to relax on top of her. I wanted to roll over, but she wasn't going to let me and I wasn't going to force her to let me go. I was, after all, still selfish. I liked each curve and dip of her body pressed against me.

"Are you sure I didn't hurt you?" I asked, stoic again and watching her closely. She shook her head. "And I didn't scare you?"

"No," She laughed again, her blush deepening. She didn't quite meet my eyes and her hand on my back was unconsciously tracing nervous patterns on my skin. "I was actually kind of flattered."

I said nothing. _Flattered_?

She squirmed, obviously embarrassed.

"Flattered how?" I asked, curious despite myself.

She was almost as red as a fire hydrant. Her blue eyes were staring over my shoulder at the ceiling above us. Finally she opened her mouth. "You said nothing could calm you down." She said simply.

I instantly understood. Nothing ever really calmed me down. But _she_ did.

I sighed and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. I pulled back to see her smiling embarrassedly and felt her wriggle again. I knew I was too heavy for her and so when I moved to roll away, this time she let me. I laid on my back, trying to stop my body from feeling and trying to sort of my thoughts.

This was pretty hard to do with her staring at me.

"What?" I asked, looking over at her from the corner of my eyes. She rolled to her side and propped her head up on her hand, her elbow digging into the mattress.

"You aren't going to get all withdrawn again, are you?" She asked, her cerulean eyes looking at me curiously. I said nothing and she sighed. "Fine, I guess it's expected. Each time I drag you out of your shell you scurry back into it right away."

"I don't have a shell," I told her plainly.

"Uh-huh," She hummed sarcastically. "Ten seconds ago you were all worried about me and now you're indifferent again. That's called a shell."

"I wasn't worried about you," I told her defiantly. "And I don't have a shell."

"Whatever," She rolled her eyes. "Ace will be here soon to drop off my stuff. I'm going to go change into a shirt that's not ripped open, okay?"

I said nothing, just watched her sit up and stretch a bit. Her cheeks were still stained red with embarrassment that she was trying her best to hide. I knew she wasn't used to such scenes we'd just gone through. She was hesitant when she kissed me, and I could feel her inexperience each time we touched.

"Butch?" She asked, turning her head to look at me over her shoulder. I raised an eyebrow. "We can still be friends, right? Even though we're so different?"

There she went again, asking me questions that I had no answer for. And still the word 'friend' came into play. I knew it was the only thing either of us knew to label this as. A friendship that wasn't a friendship. I word that seemed so pointless now in the wake of what was really there.

I sighed and looked at her searching, hopeful eyes. I wondered if she knew how bad I was at this. Surely she knew comforting and assurance weren't my thing. But still her eyes were so blue and patient and I knew I couldn't look away. Not anymore.

"Yeah," I replied to her random, heavy question. "Yeah we can."

She smiled brilliantly and leaned back to press a chaste kiss on my hipbone, right where my jagged stitches ended. The move was so innocent but it had my body tensing up again as her hair briefly spilled across my stomach. She pulled away mere seconds later and stood up.

"Good," She was saying. "I'm glad."

She walked into the kitchen, grabbing a spare shirt of mine and tugging it over her ripped one. I groaned and leaned back to stare at the ceiling again. I couldn't tell if I absolutely hated my life or completely loved it. It was a very fine line.

--

"Hey man," I nodded to Grubber as I hauled myself up into his truck. The engine was idling and he was staring at me as I got comfortable.

He revved the engine once before pulling out onto the street. I turned over my shoulder to look back into the bed of the truck. It was empty except for a few bungee cords strew about. I smirked and turned back towards the front, staring out the window.

"Perfect."

--

_I am easily make believe,  
Just dress me up in what you want me to be.  
I'll take back what I've been saying for quite some time now._

--

**Hey readers, quick note! Actually…not so quick but you get the idea.**

**First of all, please **_**don't**_** use rubbing alcohol and iodine on any of your cuts. That's not proper procedure but flushing it out with water would have been more difficult to write. I mean, as much as we all want Butch's pants off, Bubbles wasn't going to be jumping in the shower to help him in this chapter. Sorry.**

**Second of all, since I've been getting an assortment of reviews (thanks by the way!) I wanted to address a question that came up in a few of them. Will Butch and Bubbles have sex? Heck yes! In **_**my**_** story? Maybe. I'm not sure if I want to up this to 'M' but if enough people want me to I'll consider it. I don't want to alienate my readers though so please tell me.**

**And thirdly…thanks so much for reading! I love you all so dearly. I really hope this all went smoothly enough for you. Tell me what you think, but please be nice. I like constructive criticism. Very constructive :-) **

**o….and yes Bubbles is a virgin. Butch and Bubblestruly opposites. **

**(((((And I guess the baby stuff will be mentioned next chapter—kudos to the people who guessed)))))**


	16. Sober

_I don't wanna be the girl who has to fill the silence...  
The quiet scares me 'cause it screams the truth  
Please don't tell me that we had that conversation  
When I won't remember, save your breath, 'cause what's the use?_

---

"Maybe it's just a phase," Blossom tried to reason with me. "You know—a fluke. People get cold feet all the time."

She was watching me closely but I ignored the feel of her pink eyes boring into the back of my skull. Instead I just stared down at the white dress that was laid out on my sister's bed. I was still in my diner uniform from work and I felt gaudy in my sister's posh apartment, but she'd insisted I come and I was too tired to deny her.

Once I was there I really wished I had at least changed first.

"What if you sit down and talk with Andrew?" She suggested. "Maybe you could both work on your relationship. Make it stronger. That way it will last through the hard times."

"On the phone you promised you'd be supportive," I said dully. I reached out and lightly ran my fingers over the silk material of the dress. "You _promised_, Blossom."

A sharp exhale. "I know, okay? I'm sorry. I'm just trying to figure out how to handle this. The last time we were together I thought you were happy and madly in love with him and now you're broken up. How can I even begin to accept that?"

'_The last time we were together was at Andrew's birthday party,_' I remembered miserably. '_And I was hardly happy or in love_.'

"You're my sister," I said simply. "You're supposed to accept me no matter what I chose to do."

She walked up beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I could see her smiling a small, tired smile from the corner of my eye. I knew she was trying her best, but I also knew she couldn't understand my choice. How could she? She never even saw it coming.

"Fine," She muttered. "I accepted it. I just want you to be happy."

'_I'm happy now. I am_.'

"Thanks," I smiled lightly and looked down at my feet. "So, what are we going to do about the dress?"

We both looked back at the white dress on her bed. It was my wedding gown, preordered from Italy and tailor-made to fit me perfectly. I'd had a designer make the measurements and plans over the summer, about three weeks before I moved out of my dad's house. Back then it was the dream dress for the dream wedding I had always hoped for. Now…

Now it was just a pretty dress without a purpose.

"I can't believe they already shipped it to you," Blossom commented, squeezing my shoulder gently. "Usually Mauro Adami takes much longer than that to make dresses."

"It just came in today," I laughed awkwardly as I moved away from her. I stepped towards the bed and pulled myself up. I pressed myself against the headboard so that I wouldn't touch the white gown. "It was sent to dad's house and I had to go pick it up."

"What did he say when you came to get it?" Blossom seemed curious. We both knew our father wasn't handling my break-up with Andrew very well. It's not that he was dead-set on us getting married or anything (honestly I think he'd prefer if I stay a single virgin forever) but he just hadn't seen it coming. Neither had Blossom. Or anyone else.

Honestly, it didn't feel like such a shocker to me.

"He just kept asking me how I was doing," I shrugged as my eyes scanned the folds of silk and the ivory dips of cloth. It was honestly a gorgeous dress. I had starting looking for it the moment Andrew proposed and I couldn't have picked a prettier one.

"We're all worried about you," She said, clearly trying to make me react the way she wanted me to. Which way that was, however, I wasn't sure.

I wanted to laugh at her. Scream at her. Cry. Throw a fit. They were worried about me? Good, they should be! I was wanted by a notorious gang, I had a crappy apartment, a low-paying job, and I was completely falling for my bad-boy neighbor. They _should_ be worried. But, of course, that wasn't what they were worried about.

No, they had no idea about any of that. They never even asked about my job or my apartment or anything that was consuming my life now. They were worried about me because I broke off an engagement with a man I didn't even love.

Honestly, I considered that one of the smartest decisions I'd made in a long while. (Kissing Butch, stealing a car, and living in the worst part of the town were on the opposite side of that list.)

"Bubbles," Blossom's soft voice snapped me from my inner-tirade. I looked up to see her watching me kindly. She was in her night robe already, seeing as I dropped by pretty late since I worked a late-shift, and her hair was braided for sleep. The very sight of her was so familiar and comforting that I almost ached to cry.

A wave of guilt flooded over me. I felt bad for being frustrated with her only moments before, when I knew she was only trying her best to help.

It was at times like that when I wished I was younger. Back when I was locked in the cage of my house and never had to think for myself. Making my own choices was harder than I thought and the consequences were trying on my emotions.

"It's okay," Blossom cooed gently. I realized that I really was crying. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks and I dipped my head as a sob raked through my chest. Blossom came to sit by me, her arms circling me and I automatically leaned into her. "Shhh, it's okay."

We sat there for almost an hour, my body heaving and my tears spilling against her. She stroked my hair and rubbed my back, years of practice with calming me in effect. I tried as hard as I could, but I couldn't stop crying. Each time I eased my sobs they only seemed to start back again.

"I'm happy, really," I told her between shaky breaths. She laughed ironically and only held me closer.

I was happy. But was scared too. I was scared of getting hurt, of Butch getting hurt. I was scared that I was disappointing my family and alienating myself from their world. I was scared that I'd hurt Andy, who never deserved a foul thought. And mostly, I was scared to be happy. Because after all, how did I deserve to be happy?

With all I'd done—to Andrew and his feelings—how did I deserve to be happy?

"It's okay," Blossom said, her long fingers stroking my long, flaxen hair. Her voice was warm and comforting and again I remembered our years of childhood and all the times she'd been there for me. I remembered each time she'd caught me as I fell. But this time I wasn't letting her catch me. This time I was going to catch myself, and we both knew that.

It was my time to grow up. I wasn't that same little girl anymore. I was making my own choices (whether they were good or bad) and I was reaping my own consequences.

"The hardest thing to do is let go of love." She said as my sobs finally eased and I wiped at my eyes.

"Yeah," I smiled a watery, sniffly smile. I sucked back the remaining tears, determined to stop crying. I looked at the discarded, purposeless dress at the end of her bed. But I wasn't focused on the material or the design. Instead I thought of dark green eyes and heated kisses and I felt my breathing calm.

Because I knew, from my own experiences in life, that letting go of love is hard. But letting a new love in is even harder.

---

"Waiting for me?" I asked as I stepped out of the cab to see Butch already handing the driver some money for my trip. He backed away from the window and the cab pulled away and drove off. We were quiet for a moment, standing in the dark.

"I just…" He began, but stopped and shrugged in that careless way he had.

"You were waiting for me," I smiled teasingly. But secretly I was grateful. The Audley Boys were constantly on the back of my mind, and it helped to know Butch was looking out for me. I wasn't exactly comfortable being alone in the dark. "Thanks for paying for my cab."

He just rolled his eyes, his face stoic and cold. The streetlamp illuminated his face and my stomach was curling at the tan of his skin and the sharp line of his jaw. I could see the jade tint to his seemingly black eyes and I felt warm as they settled back on me. I remembered the way he'd kissed me only the day before. I remembered the press of his lips and the taste of his hunger.

I saw his eyes darken even more and his jaw tighten.

"Have you been crying?" He asked, his tone cold.

Shocked out of my memory, I reached up and touched my swollen eyes and I knew I must've looked like a wreck. A blush sprung to my cheeks and I smiled embarrassedly at him. His tall form loomed over me, unwilling to let me hide like I wished.

"It's nothing—really," I told him, feeling a bit defensive. He said nothing and I knew he was probably thinking the worst. "It wasn't the Audley Boys. I'm not hurt, okay? Can you just forget it?"

"Yeah," He said roughly. "Fine."

We stood in a tense quiet, both a little wary of each other. From the short time we'd been staying with each other, we'd both already learned to keep distances when the other was in a bad mood. We'd had our share of edgy nights with stony silences, but what friendship didn't?

'_Ha! Friendship?_' My mind mocked me. '_You're still calling it that? That make out session was hardly a friendly event_.'

"I got you something," Butch spoke at last, his plain voice again snapping me out of the memory of the heated moment of intimacy we'd experienced. I blinked as he began to walk away. I let out a short breath of relief and began to walk behind him, my steps sluggish from fatigue. Work was really getting to me and the soles of my feet were begging for a long soak in the tub. My shoulders were pretty tight too.

We walked silently to our floor, no words coming from our lips. I was too tired to talk and he wasn't going to initiate it. All around us could hear the murmurs from behind the walls of other apartments and the hum of the heating system. The lights above us flickered once, then twice before staying lit. I remembered the first time they had done that and I'd been so worried they were about to burn out. Now I was used to it.

I trained my eyes on the steps so as not to fall and embarrass myself. The stairway was colder than the hallways and I was glad for the thick cotton of my uniform. Soon I'd have to get my coat out of my suitcase and start wearing it around the building.

Finally we reached Butch's apartment and he began fiddling in his pocket for the key.

"So…did you get me a bed frame?" I joked lamely, but he hardly spared me glance…which is a shame, because I really liked when he looked at me. "Or maybe a television set so that I can watch something in my boring apartment?"

"Do you want me to get you a TV?" He looked over at me and I felt a little less tired. His scarred cheek was still noticeable and his eye looked a little darkened from a punch, but I couldn't help to think he would look good no matter how much he messed his face up.

"No, thanks," I smiled brightly at him. We both knew he'd just steal me one, and I didn't want that.

"So," His low voice sighed out as he finally pulled his key from his jeans. "You're moving out tomorrow, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm planning on it." We hadn't really talked about it but he wasn't exactly a clingy guy and he didn't seem to mind having his privacy back. I think he was looking forward to some peace and quiet. It was no secret that I annoyed him with my incessant prattle.

"Well, I bought you something for your 'new' apartment," He looked emotionlessly at me.

I raised an eyebrow. _Really_? He'd really bought me some furniture?

He opened his door and as he did a sudden ruckus came from inside. It was the sound of snarling and barking and I jumped at the practically ferocious sound. With quick movements Butch pulled me into the apartment and I struggled to stay behind him, uncertain of what was inside.

"Oh my god," I stuttered out as the door shut behind us. I was holding Butch's arm tightly, my fingers digging into his skin and my body moving to be shielded by his. I strained to look around his broad shoulders and as I did I felt myself struggle. I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or cry.

Two fully-grown, big, snarling Rottweilers were chained up against the brass doorknob of Butch's bathroom. They were showing their teeth and their bulky muscles were bunched up as they struggled to break the chains holding them back. I mentally prayed that the flimsy door would hold up against their strength.

"Butch," I gasped. "What in the world?"

"It's my housewarming gift," His voice sounded suspiciously like he was trying not to laugh. I, however, didn't think it was very funny.

"They look like they want to eat me," I complained, my eyes still watching the two angry dogs in case they broke free.

"They just don't know you," He explained as I pushed myself closer to his back, trying to hide from the dogs while still trying to watch them. "They won't like you unless they see I like you. They're loyal dogs."

"Butch," I said miserably. "They look like they want to eat me." I repeated.

"C'mere," He chuckled, pulling me behind him as he walked towards the dogs. I struggled to stay put, but he was stronger than me and soon we were both within an arms-length from the impending fate of two sets of chomping jaws. "Okay boys," His voice was firm as he addressed the dogs. "Back down."

Both of the dogs immediately sat back on their haunches, but still they continued to snarl and their muscles beneath their sleek black fur remained tense. I watched with wide eyes as they stared back at me and I swear I saw the door bend a bit from their previous pulling.

I linked my fingers through the belt loop of Butch's jeans and tried to pull him back. "I don't think they like me."

"Then show them that we're okay," He said, still sounding humored by my reaction to the beasts before me. He was obviously used to this kind of dog, but I was more used to Pomeranians and Chihuahuas. "Trust me; they listen to me because they think I'm their owner. Once they see that you aren't trouble they'll listen to you too."

"Why are they so mean?" I mumbled, refusing to come out from behind him. I liked the safety his larger form offered. He was like the human shield I'd always needed when I was younger in gym class. Dodge ball seriously would have been a breeze with him around.

"They're trained guard dogs," He explained, his tone patient. "Their only goal is to protect their owner, which is you as of today."

"You could have just bought me a security alarm," I stared at the white teeth of the dogs. "That way I wouldn't get eaten."

"I didn't buy them," He smirked back at me.

I groaned. "You stole these dogs?" I asked. Honestly, hadn't stealing gotten us in enough trouble?

"There's a man across town who trains all kinds of dogs," He shrugged. "You can buy fighters, seekers, hunters, or guard dogs. I borrowed two guard dogs for you."

"What?" I frowned. "Well, you can just give them back. I don't want two killer dogs in my house. Especially not two _stolen_, killer dogs. I'm not going to accept them and I don't want to keep them. They're watching me like hawks and I know the minute that door snaps, they're going to be at my throat."

"Bubbles," Butch's voice was suddenly serious. "I'm not letting you move back into your apartment if you don't take them with you."

My fear of the dogs was forgotten as anger rose in my chest. I stepped away from his back and crossed my arms over my chest. He turned and faced me and immediately we were locked in a glaring contest. We were both stubborn to the core and I could see him digging his heels in.

"I'm not keeping them," I said sharply. "I don't need them to protect me. You're right here and I can take care of myself. It's pointless to keep them. So you can just take them back. I don't—"

"You're keeping them," He said, his tone so cold I almost shivered. Moments like this I remembered why people were afraid of him. He looked quite terrifying when he was angry. "I can't be here all the time and you aren't going to be alone in that apartment. The Audley Boys know where you live, Bubbles, and they're going to try and kill you just to piss me off. Don't you get that?"

"I don't want them!" I shouted. The moment my tone raised I realized my mistake as suddenly the two dogs were back on their feet and struggling to tear me to shreds.

I screamed loudly at the vicious sound and launched myself against Butch's form. I buried my face into his chest and silently begged for him to block the dog's attacks. I couldn't believe that old wooden door hadn't caved yet. Any moment I was sure I'd be torn apart.

"Back down," Butch's voice was angry and at once the dogs were silent. He gripped my shoulders and pushed me away so that he could see my face. I blushed, embarrassed by my pathetic reaction to the animals.

"They really don't like me," I mumbled, looking down at the ground. His fingers loosened their grip and he let me step away.

"They just didn't like you yelling at me," He frowned at the two dogs. "Come on, we need them to get used to you."

"I don't want them," I told him shakily.

He looked back at me, his green eyes calm and his face set in a neutral look. We watched each other for a long moment. "Bubbles." His finally spoke, his voice was pained and I felt myself falter. "_Please_."

I said nothing, my throat dry and my chest tightened as my heart seemed to beat faster.

"Okay," I said at last, too tired to say no to him. He smirked and grabbed my arm. I let him guide me closer to the tense dogs. I felt one moment of panic but the feel of Butch's hand on my arm seemed to calm me. The rough pads of his fingers ran against my skin as he moved to grab my hand. Slowly he raised my hand out so that the two dogs could reach it. I expected them to attack it at once, but instead they slowly smelled it. Their noses were cold and the short whiskers rubbed my palm.

"They have your scent now, and they know you're alright" He explained. "They'll protect you until the end of the world."

I smiled slowly at the dogs, my head tilted and my hair spilling around my shoulders. They didn't snarl or growl as I lowered myself to my knees and reached out to scratch the taller one behind the ears. He leaned into my petting and I giggled as the intimidating beast melted at my touch.

"Maybe they're a little cute," I admitted, my tone a bit lighter than before. The other one was watching me closely, obviously waiting for his turn to be petted. I rubbed his nose with a bit of endearment and he sat still as I did. "They're like tiny soldiers."

"Let's hope," Butch's tone was again emotionless and he moved to walk towards his kitchen.

"Butch," I called to him, looking over my shoulder as I rubbed the tall dog's ear. Butch turned and sent me a look and I smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you." I said, my tone tired, but sincere.

"Whatever," He shrugged. "Just don't expect me to walk them or anything."

I grinned and looked back at my two new gifts. They might not have been the ideal gift but they were sensible. And Butch was nothing if not sensible. It'd help to have the extra muscle around in case of trouble, and the two dogs gave me hope for some company as well.

I smiled and winked at them as I heard Butch rustle around in the kitchen behind me. I continued to pet the subdued monsters as my chest loosened happily.

---

It was far past time for me to be sleeping but I couldn't close my eyes. I could hear Butch shift on the floor and again I felt bad, knowing he couldn't be comfortable down there. The next day, however, I'd be back in my apartment. And he'd finally be able to sleep on his bed.

"Are you still awake?" I asked, my voice quiet.

Butch made a sound of acknowledgement from the floor and I winced. He'd probably been sleeping.

"Do you really think those dogs will protect me?" I looked down at the pale skin of my arms as the moonlight spilled down across where I was laying.

"Yeah," Butch said, his voice gravelly with sleep and again I heard him shift. "If not, stealing them was a complete waste of my time."

I sighed. "How do you steal dogs anyway?"

"I know someone who owns a truck," He replied evenly. "You just have to load them in. It's like stealing anything else. You just have to be smart about it."

"I'm surprised you didn't get bit," I laughed softly.

"Haven't you figured it out, doll?" Butch's voice merged with the darkness around me and I felt the fine hairs on my neck raise up. "I can do anything."

I giggled. "Cute," I said dryly.

"Go on and get to sleep," He said plainly back, his tone a firm command but I knew he wasn't being a jerk. He just liked me better when I wasn't talking.

"Thank you," I said, ignoring his order. "For everything you've done to help me. I know I get on your nerves, especially when you're trying to sleep."

"Forget about it."

"No, really, I don't know what I would have done without you," I admitted, feeling braver with the moon on my skin and the dark hiding him from me. It was easier to talk to him when I couldn't see him giving me annoyed looks.

"You could have gone back home," He seemed intent on ignoring my thanks.

"Yeah," I muttered sarcastically. "And broke down crying to my dad because I didn't get my way."

"Is that why you were crying earlier?" His voice was suddenly more awake.

"What?" I frowned.

"Were you crying because you didn't get your way?"

"I thought you said you'd drop it," I reminded him tiredly. I pulled the blankets up around my neck and tried to ignore the memory of my moment of weakness at my sister's apartment. It was embarrassing to think I'd broken down so easily, especially after I'd been trying so hard to be strong.

"Just tell me," His tone was stern. I looked into the dark of the apartment around me and frowned. I wondered why it bothered him so much. My safety was obviously a concern of his, but I didn't think he'd care if I cried or not. Why would he? He never really got involved with people's emotions. I could tell that much.

"I guess I was scared," I sighed, knowing that the sooner I told him, the sooner we'd both get to sleep. The heavy breathing of my two new dogs told me that they had woken back up and were listening to the mumble of their two owners.

Butch said nothing, and I wondered if he had gone to sleep since he'd received his answer.

"Do you ever get scared?" I asked him nervously, oddly trying to find reasons to keep him talking.

"I stopped getting scared a long time ago," His answer came a moment later. I sighed, annoyed by his cryptic response. Why couldn't he just open up?

"Was your life really bad?" I found myself asking him. I knew it must have been, in order for him to stop feeling fear. "You know, growing up."

"It was no worse than anyone else's situation," His tone was lifeless and I knew he hated personal questions. Well, tough luck.

"My life wasn't bad at all," I said, frowning at the ceiling. "I used to think it was horrible. Suffocating. But now I realized it was a walk in the park compared to what other people went through. I mean…I had everything given to me. I went to a great school, I had a great family, and amazing future ahead of me. I had everything."

"Why'd you leave it if it was so perfect?" Despite the cool tones of his voice, I could tell he seemed slightly interested. I had to grin. He'd die if he knew I was beginning to rub off on him.

"I guess I was bored," I said honestly. '_And smothered, and trapped, and ignored, and lonely…_'

He said nothing and together we laid in the dark. The wind outside was blowing pretty hard and I wondered how long it'd be before the first big snow. I rolled over to my side and curled up slightly, trying to get warmer. My mind began to slow with sleep.

"Something was missing there," I whispered, knowing fully well that Butch could still hear me.

"Where?" His deep voice was sluggish with sleep and I knew at any moment we'd both nod off.

"Back at my old home," I replied softly. My fingers ran over the cotton sheets around me. "I guess I was hoping if I left, I'd realize what was missing and then I could go after it." I had only wanted to fix this hole that had formed in my life. This feeling that there was more out there. More to do, more to see, more to feel. Something had been missing.

"Have you found it yet?" His low, gruff voice surrounded me in the dark and I closed my eyes, relishing the sound of it. Relishing in the knowledge that he was there with me, even if I couldn't see him. Even at a distance it was as if I could feel the heat from his body, like he was only an inch away.

"Yeah," I fisted a clump of the sheets and wrapped them tighter around myself. "I think I finally have."

---

Butch wasn't there when I woke up the next day. His make-shift bed on the floor was still there, but he was no where to be seen. It was quiet and I couldn't hear the shower or sink, so I knew he wasn't in the bathroom.

"He must've already gone to work," I sighed as I stretched languidly.

It was Saturday and I had the day off. My boss hadn't wanted to let me have a day off, but Victor had insisted. He knew I needed time to set up my apartment. I may not have much furniture, but I did need to get groceries and other such necessities. Like dog food!

"Hey boys," I grinned at the two Rottweilers that were curled up near the door. "You probably need to go to the bathroom, huh?" Both of their ears perked up and I giggled. "I guess I should probably name you two as well."

I tried to ignore the part of me that felt a little disappointed. I'd really wanted Butch to stick around today. He'd have no real responsibilities helping me move in, but it'd be nice to have him there on the day I moved out. But I guess that wasn't a monumental as it was to me.

I could only hope he wasn't as uncaring about this as he acted to be. Sure, we were still going to be neighbors, but I would miss his constant, calming company.

I crawled out of bed and patted the taller dog on the head as I passed him. "I don't think I mean as much to him as he does to me," I told the two Rottweilers as I latched their leashes to their chain collars.

They gave me unpitying looks and I rolled my eyes.

"_Men_."

---

_Knock. Knock. Knock. _

I moved away from my refrigerator and looked back towards my door. Dumas and Harper, my two newly named dogs, both lifted their heads and began to growl lowly. It was my first day back in my apartment and already the two dogs had taken residence on my coach and didn't seem to be in a hurry to move.

"Stay," I told them firmly as I walked to my door. They both watched steadily, still growling, but obeyed. I felt comforted by their presence, but wasn't too worried. Robbers didn't usually knock at the door.

I unlocked the bolt and unlatched the chain. The door was hardly opened a crack before I heard a boisterous voice call out for me.

"Bubbles!" Boomer, Butch's brother, yelled. "Come on babe, let us in!"

I rolled my eyes thoughtfully and opened the door the rest of the way. "Hello there," I grinned at the blonde haired boy at my door. He sauntered in, followed closely by Brick and a man I'd seen hanging around Ace's gang. Grubber, they called him. I waited to see if Butch brought up the rear, but was disappointed to see he wasn't present.

"We're starving," Boomer said plainly, his boyish grin belittling his rude comment.

"Yeah," Brick shoved him roughly. "And so are those dogs, so I'd watch it if I were you."

Everyone looked over to my dogs that, although still on the couch as I'd commanded, were now practically foaming at the mouth and showing their sharp teeth. Boomer nearly turned white as he noticed the two looming animals and he nervously retreated a few steps. Brick stared impassively at the animals and Grubber hardly seemed to notice them.

"Dumas, Harper," I said decisively "Go!" I pointed towards my bedroom and they hesitated before slowly making their way to the room. I followed them and shut the door behind them. I knew now that they wouldn't hurt _me_, but I didn't want them to attack one of my guests.

"Lord," Boomer breathed out as I walked by him. I cold smell the alcohol on his breath and I shook my head slightly. That boy was never fully sober. "Those dogs looked ready to use my balls as chew-toys. How the hell did you train them to listen to you?"

I almost told them that they were already trained when I got them, but immediately shut my mouth. I knew Butch had stolen the dogs and I didn't want to go starting trouble for him. Although I was certain his brothers wouldn't care, it still wasn't my place to tell. Besides, I didn't know if Grubber was someone to share anything with.

"Those dogs will keep you safe," Brick commented once he realized I wasn't going to answer Boomer. He had a knowing look in his red eyes and I felt as if he could see through me. "It was a good idea to get them."

"Yeah," I smiled before deciding to change the subject. "So what can I do for you boys? I wasn't really expecting visitors but I'm sure I can rustle up some food. I just stopped by the store about an hour ago to stock up my fridge and get some dog food. I didn't grab too much, but does a salad sound good?"

"No," Boomer said bluntly before flopping down on my second-hand couch. "Got any beer?"

"I'm not old enough to buy beer," I put my hands on my hips and sent him a wry look.

Boomer smiled widely at me and winked. "That's why you steal it honey."

What was with this family and stealing? I frowned at him and ran a hand through my long blonde hair. Brick was looking thoughtfully around my bare apartment, probably shocked to see it looking slightly livable. Grubber seemed distracted by a loose string on the zipper of his jacket and his wide eyes were trained on it.

"So…" I said awkwardly, not exactly use to entertaining three men. "Do mind me asking why you three stopped by?"

Grubber looked up at me but said nothing. I got the feeling he was kind of quiet. Boomer was just grinning and looking slightly silly as he stretched out. His blonde hair was shoved up in a beanie but a few loose strands fell into his dark blue eyes. His wide smile revealed his snow-white teeth and I saw that one of his premolars was missing. The gap gave him the appearance of a jack-o-lantern and I wondered if he got it knocked out in a fight.

"We brought you a table," Brick was the first to offer up the information. I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.

"What?" I questioned him, my tone suspicious.

Brick smiled charmingly and patted Grubber on the back. "Grubber here has a truck and we took it to get you a table. We figured you'd need something to eat off of. We were going to get it for you a couple of days ago, but Grubber couldn't lend us his truck then."

I felt myself smile, feeling oddly touched. I doubted these boys ever got gifts for people, and here they were getting me a table while hardly knowing me. It was most likely because Butch was my friend, but still it was thoughtful. I could get used to being under their wing.

"Wait," I said quickly. They all stared at me, waiting. "Did you steal it?" I looked over at Boomer as I asked the question. He was the most likely to admit if they had. "Because if you stole it—I don't want it. I'm sick of stolen gifts. So thank you anyway, but you can just take it back and—"

"We bought it," Brick cut in. "Honest. But you don't have to believe us. Just cool it, okay?"

I stared untrustingly at him. His handsome face was stern but honest. I sighed, because I really didn't have a reason not to believe him. Sure, he was a common punk, but he'd always been polite to me. A large part of me really wanted to believe they were all good people deep down; even though I knew more than likely that there was little goodness in any of them. I could feel Boomer watching me with a grin.

"Fine," I smiled and dramatically waved my hand. "I'll take the table! Where is it?"

"The truck is parked on the street," Boomer told me before hopping off my couch. He swayed slightly at the sudden movement before steadying himself. "We'll go get it…as long as you make us some food in the mean while. And none of that healthy crap."

"Yes sir," I scoffed and turned back towards my kitchen area. The three men made their way back towards my door, ready to go get my new table. I noticed Brick hanging back and I waved him over with a welcoming smile.

He made his way over to me and stood close as I washed my hands in the sink. I could see the outline of his gun against his black shirt and I wondered if I was being foolish in trusting him. But it was kind of late to back out now.

"Listen," He told me in a voice low enough so that only I could here. We both knew the walls were thin. "I don't usually talk business to a chick, but I guess I'll have to make an exception for you."

"I'd appreciate it," I told him in a slightly sarcastic tone as I pretended to be interested in scrubbing my hands. I wasn't as comfortable around Brick as I was around Butch.

"There's a good chance Grant Audley is going to come after you," He informed me.

I swallowed thickly but stared at him with as much confidence as I could muster. "How do you know?"

"We had meeting with him the other day and we know he's getting desperate," He explained. "He's going to try and get you, and it'll be him personally. And if he gets a hold of you, it won't be pretty. This isn't a game. Killing one girl will be nothing to him."

I raised my chin and gathered my courage. Fear was inevitable, but I needed to try my best to remain brave.

"Let him try," I said sharply. "He won't be able to kill me. I've got—"

"Butch?" He finished for me and I blushed. "Butch isn't around all the time, is he? And those dogs are okay as long as there's no guns involved."

"So what should I do?" I stepped away from him, feeling a little anxious. I didn't really like standing close to men. In fact, besides Andrew, Butch was really the only man I've ever really been into close contact with.

Brick's red eyes looked solemnly at me for a long moment. His face was a lot like Butch's. Defined, calm, and uncommonly gorgeous. Only, unlike Butch, Brick's face was without a flaw. No scar, no stitching. I wondered how a gang leader could go so long without getting a blemish on his face.

"Keep this with you," Brick suddenly reached beneath his shirt and pulled out his gun. The silver metal glinted in the light from the window as he held it out to me. "Do you know how to shoot it?"

I felt cold. I stared unblinkingly down at the weapon. The thought of owning a gun scared me senseless. The idea of learning to shoot one was just crazy. Sure, I wasn't stupid enough to think Butch didn't store a few guns around his apartment. But those were his. _I_ didn't want anything to do with a gun.

"Bubbles," Brick said, his tone becoming more brotherly and assured. I could tell why he was such a good leader for both Butch and Boomer. "Take it and ask Butch to show you how to shoot it. He can get you some more ammo as well. Okay?"

I nodded and after a moment I mechanically took the gun from his hand. It was heavy, despite its small size, and I held it away from me. Brick said nothing and simply turned to go help Boomer and Grubber with the table. I was left standing there, dumbly staring at the gun.

"No," I told myself sternly as I opened the nearest kitchen drawer. I pushed the silverware aside and shoved the gun to the back where it wouldn't immediately be seen. "It will never come to that."

I still felt cold as I began fixing a pizza. The memory of the weight of the gun and the cold metal still made my hand tingle. I found myself wishing Butch was here. He wouldn't have made me take the gun. He'd understand that I'd never in my life be able to use it.

I frowned and glared over at the drawer I'd previously stored the gun in.

"It will never come to that," I said again, my tone annoyed.

'_And even if it does, I won't ever reduce myself to using it_.'

---

I stepped through the doors of the bar. The air inside was full of smoke and the smell of alcohol was wafting off of everyone nearby. A few people gave me questioning looks, but looked away a moment later out of boredom. I was grateful and did my best to push my way through a thick throng of people that seemed to be lined up for the bathroom.

I had agreed to meet Boomer, Brick, and the Gang Greene Gang here earlier after Boomer had finished devouring my pizza. They said they could pick me up and take me, but I'd assured them I could find it safely on my own. Once I was faced with a horde of drunken strangers, however, I suddenly wished I'd taken them up on their offer. I had no idea where to begin looking for them.

"Oh!" I gasped out as I accidentally ran straight into a girl I hadn't noticed was standing there. We both stumbled a bit, and I felt bad to see her beer spill onto the toe of her silver high-heels. "I'm so sorry!"

"That's okay," She said dismissively, her light blue eyes (a few shades lighter than my own) were scanning the crowed with interest. Finally she focused back on me and her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose in recognition.

"Hi!" The girl, slightly taller than me, greeted me suddenly. Her tone was now a bit warmer. "I'm Sadie Wilson. What's your name?"

I could barely hear her over the loud music coming from the speakers on the wall closest to us. People were laughing loudly and calling over to each other. The pool tables were packed and the bar didn't seem to have an available stool. I had to step closer to Sadie to be heard.

"I'm Bubbles!" I told her loudly. I purposely left off my last name, knowing it would only cause me trouble if she recognized it. The daughters of millionaires don't usually spend their Saturdays at local bars. Especially seedy bars in the bad part of town.

"I thought so!" She nodded. "Ace sent me to look for you," She grinned and I noticed how pretty she was. She didn't have a strikingly pretty face when you first saw her, but beneath her makeup and curled hair I could see the appeal she must bring.

"Are you his girlfriend?" I asked, shocked. How anyone could date a man like Ace was beyond me. He was so sarcastic and unpredictable. I remembered how nervous he made me that time he'd cornered me on the stairwell. Not that I'd ever let him know that, of course.

Sadie smiled and cocked her hip. "Do I look like I'd date that hood?" She asked, her tone annoyed but her smile showing me that she was merely joking. "I'm with Snake. We've been going pretty steady for about a month now."

I nodded, a little surprised that she was opening up to me when we'd only met a few seconds ago. But her tone and overall behavior seemed pretty forthright so far. She probably held nothing back. Buttercup was pretty much the same, so I was used to the bold attitude. I also wondered if she realized that Snake was just a bad as Ace, but I kept that to myself.

"Come on," She turned and sashayed through the crowd, leaving me to struggle to keep up. We made our way towards the cluster of small tables and I saw they were mainly occupied by a group of tough men, most of which were members of the Gang Green Gang.

Ace was sitting in a shadowed corner, his sunglasses in place and his posture relaxed and lazy. He grinned at me and I nodded at him. There was an empty chair across from him and he kicked it out, obviously intending for me to sit there. I sighed and looked back over at Sadie.

"Thanks for finding me," I told her gratefully. Although, why Ace couldn't have gotten me himself was just beyond me. How lazy.

"No problem," Sadie shrugged before going and sliding into Snake's lap.

With nothing else to do, I subjected myself to sitting across from Ace. He was still grinning as I plopped down in the wooden chair. His greased black hair and olive skin made his white teeth stick out. Sitting to my left was a large man I knew to be Big Billy. To my right was Grubber, his tongue lulling out of his mouth and his large eyes watching the pool tables from across the room. I'd met them both the night Butch got stabbed at the bar. The night I broke up with Andrew.

"How are you today?" Ace asked me.

"Great and how are you?" I asked politely as I looked around the bar.

"Looking for someone?" Ace was grinning and I blushed slightly.

"I was just looking to see if Brick and Boomer were here," I lied. In truth the only reason I agreed to come was because I'd hoped to see Butch here. But I didn't want Ace to know that.

Ace nodded slowly and I wondered worriedly if he had guessed exactly who I was really looking for.

"So," I said quickly. "How's Jazz?"

"She's doing her best to worry the living daylights out of me," Ace admitted as he took a swig of his beer. "The girl apparently hates to tell me before leaving the house now. She's always disappearing to go play with some random kid down the street. Scares the shit out of me every time I turn around and can't find her."

"Little kids are like that," I told him honestly. "You could be like my dad and keep her locked behind a fence." I tried to add humor to my tone, but I knew Ace caught the hint of sour feelings in my words.

"Being safe behind a fence is better than being dead in the streets," Ace said, his tone suddenly unreadable and I found I couldn't look at him. I knew he was right, though.

"Have you seen Butch today?" I asked, trying my best to subtly change the subject and sound nonchalant at the same time. I failed miserably on both counts.

"No," He chuckled. "I can't say that I have. I figured he'd be around though, seeing as it was your day to move out, am I right?" I nodded. "I thought so. How's it feel to be living on you own again? Are you scared your place will get trashed?

"No," I looked back at him, determined to stop scanning the crowed. "I have two new dogs. They'll keep out anyone I don't want to come in."

"I heard about that," He grinned. "Two Rottweilers, am I right?"

"Yeah," I smiled, fondly thinking of the two scary dogs back at my apartment. "I named them Dumas and Harper, after-"

"Authors," Ace finished for me. I sent him a shocked look, surprised he'd actually catch the connection. "Alexandre Dumas and Harper Lee, right?" He was smiling smugly, proud that he'd figured it out. I could only smile back. "You didn't think I'd know that, did you?"

"No," I giggled honestly. "Not a lot of people read the classics. My dad read them to my sisters and me when we were younger, so I guess it just stuck."

"I occasionally dropped by school when I was younger," Ace shrugged. "I didn't really do much learning, but the teachers were always giving me books in hopes that I'd actually read them."

"Did you?" I tilted my head, interested.

"Nah," He waved off the question. "They were good targets when I was learning to shoot though."

I shook my head, amused and a bit dismayed. For a moment I'd wished there was hope for this man. If he'd shown an interest in learning, even if only at a younger age, then maybe he'd have a chance at a life other then in a gang and surrounded by violence.

"Well," I shrugged. "I guess there are two types of people. People who like to read and people who like to shoot at books in an attempt to improve their skills in thievery and drive-bys."

Ace laughed a loud, honest laugh. I was surprised but smiled nonetheless.

"I think there's just one kind of folks," Ace told me in an amused, quite tone as he leaned across the table. "Folks."

I hesitated before smiling wider. "Interesting," I said sweetly to him. "That you can quote Lee, but you've never read her book."

Ace leaned back and took a long swig of his beer. "Yeah," He breathed. "What's interesting, I think, is that you named a boy dog 'Harper'. That's a girl's name."

I shook my head and looked back around the bar. "My name is _Bubbles_," I reminded him distractedly. "I don't think it's really in me to pick a normal name."

---

"Who's that?" I asked Boomer as we stood by the wall nearest to the pool tables. Boomer was leaning on his pool stick, waiting for his turn. He didn't seem too interested in the game, however, and instead was intent on entertaining me.

He followed my gaze to where a big man was sitting near the bar. He had multiple piercing and a large tattoo of a naked lady across his face. Boomer smiled goofily and nodded in recognition.

"That's Tiny," He said and I merely raised an eyebrow at the ironic name. The man must've been near seven feet tall and almost as half as wide as he was tall. "He's the muscle at the bar. The owner makes him sit there in hopes that it will discourage people from starting any trouble while getting drinks."

"I'd be terrified to start trouble around him," I admitted.

Boomer leaned in close to my ear, the putrid smell of cheap beer on his breath. "That man beside him is Tiny's boyfriend." Boomer whispered with a hint of conspiracy, although I was pretty sure everyone within a five foot radius of us could hear his "whisper".

"You're kidding," I raised an eyebrow at that last statement.

"Yes," Brick cut off his brother's response, sending him a warning look. "He's kidding. And he better hope Tiny doesn't hear about what he just said. I'm not going to help him if Tiny decides to kick his ass to hell and back."

I giggled as Boomer flipped Brick the middle finger.

"I think it's your turn," I nudged Boomer and he quickly stumbled over to the pool table. Despite his swagger, however, his shot was steady and he hit three balls in with one try. I was surprised, seeing as Butch had once told me how bad Boomer was at pool. He must've been really drunk on the night he lost…which wasn't a big surprise.

"So are you two playing for money?" I asked Brick, seeing as my previous source of entertainment was otherwise occupied.

"No, for drinks," Brick leaned back on the wall next to me.

I nodded and said nothing for a moment. I wasn't ever really sure where I stood with Brick, but I could only hope he liked me. He acted like he was alright with me hanging around (seeing as he bought me a table) but I also knew he'd turn on me in a second if I ever dropped allegiance with his brother. But I guess that's fair. Blood is thicker than water.

"Do I stand out?" I asked Brick, a bit worried. I'd been noticing some looks from the people around me.

Brick looked me over and shrugged. Since I now only had nicer clothes, I had to scrounge to find outfits that did make me look too out of place. I'd chosen to wear some jeans, a black shirt, and a white jacket. Each article was designer brand and extremely expensive, but no one had to know that. It was the closest I could get to an outfit that "fit in".

"It's probably just because they haven't seen you before," Brick nodded to the people who were giving me questioning looks. I wondered if he was being too polite to tell me that I looked too rich. I felt stupid for not dolling up my hair and face and instead dressing nice. I should start paying more for makeup and less for clothes.

"See," Boomer saddled back up next to me after his turn was done. I watched Brick step away and circle the table, looking for his shot. "I'm amazing." Boomer bragged next to me.

I rolled my eyes and pointed to Sadie and Snake, who were still sitting closely together off with the other Gang Members. "What's their story?" I asked Boomer.

"Hmm?" Boomer raised an eyebrow. "Well, Snake is a good man, tough fighter. He's a bit of a lackey though. He doesn't know how to think for himself most of the time." Brick snorted at this as he walked by but Boomer purposefully ignored him. "And Sadie…well, Sadie's pretty easy. She's nice, but you can't count that your bed is the only one she's warming…if you know what I mean."

I did. I sighed, having hoped that Sadie and I might've become friends. She'd seemed nice and it'd been refreshing to see a girl around my own age hanging about. Still, I shouldn't judge. Maybe she was still sweet. Who was I to comment on people's private lives anyway?

"I'm surprised you haven't heard about her," Boomer said, bringing me back to our conversation.

"Really?" I asked, not looking at him but raising my eyebrow. "Why would I have heard about her?"

"Well," He shrugged. "She slept with Butch more than a few times and…"

Boomer silenced himself, immediately realizing his mistake. I felt myself grow suddenly very still. Anger wasn't filling me, neither was sadness. But instead a sinking feeling grew in the pit of my stomach. My heart pounded harder against my chest and I breathed in deep.

"Um, Bubbles?" Boomer said hesitantly. "I didn't mean…um…well…"

"Forget it," I said, trying my best to sound chipper, but my voice was too quiet and I wasn't smiling. "Does…does Butch sleep around with a lot of girls?" I managed to ask around my embarrassment. I must've seemed so childish.

Boomer said nothing for a long moment and I didn't think he was going to answer. The bar was still loud around us and the people seemed to be having a good time. I looked over at Sadie. Her smile was easy and hands brushed the back of Snake's neck. I frowned.

"You have to understand," Boomer finally responded. His tone was more serious and I wondered if my awkward behavior had sobered him up a bit. "He's not the relationship type. Most guys around here aren't. And that's okay because most girls around here aren't looking for anything steady."

I shook my head. "I doubt that," I smiled at Boomer, and he just watched me closely. "All girls want something steady, even if they pretend they don't."

"Not you. You gave up a steady relationship for nothing," Boomer reminded me while further putting his foot in his mouth.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Yeah," I shrugged. "I guess you're right."

"Hey, don't get sad," Boomer said loudly and I tried my best to melt into the wall behind me as a few people stared. "He's not sleeping with her now."

"He's not?" I asked, my voice sounding way too hopeful to be inconspicuous. But suddenly I didn't care if people heard us or not.

Boomer laughed. "Nope, she's old news. In fact, I'm pretty sure you've been the only girl he's been sleeping with for the past few weeks." He gave me an annoyingly teasing smile but I ignored it.

I fought the urge the squeal happily and bounce. Instead I just grinned and rocked on the balls of my feet. Sure, I was almost certain he liked me. He sure did kiss me like he liked me. But who can ever be positive? After all, he could have been sleeping with the dozens of girls who thought he was attractive.

"Wait, you think I'm sleeping with Butch?" I questioned Boomer, a bit shocked. I guess it was a reasonable deduction, but the thought startled me. Me, sleeping with Butch? I felt myself blush deeply and my ears got hot. Butch slept with girls like Sadie. He only kissed girls like me.

Boomer's eyes widened. "Aren't you?" He was grinning now, and I realized I might have made a mistake. After all, I was pretty sure Boomer was the last person to tell secrets to.

"Um…" I mumbled. "_Yes_?"

"Holy shit," Boomer muttered, seeing right through my lie. "You haven't slept with him yet—"

"Yet?" I tried to cut in, but he ignored me.

"This is great. Butch is fucking living with a girl and he's not even banging her. Oh god, this is too good!" He seemed to be really enjoying this. His dark blue eyes filled with mirth. I shifted, even more uncomfortable and a little irritated. "And here I thought he was so wound up because you were keeping him on a short leash. I didn't think you were holding out on him."

"I'm not holding out," I protested, not quite sure what "holding out" meant, but not liking where this was leading.

Boomer just put a hand on his stomach, trying to calm his laughing. "God girl, you've got him wrapped so tight around your finger and you didn't even know it. Seriously, this is too good."

"I don't find this funny," I told him heatedly. "And stop laughing!"

This only made him laugh harder. "I'm not Butch," He reminded me. "I don't have to listen to you."

"You're such an idiot," I pushed him, trying to send him off balance but he only rested back against the wall. He should know, as Butch's brother, that Butch didn't listen to anyone. He only tolerated me because…because…

"He likes you," Boomer seemed to be reading my thoughts. He was smiling at me and I felt myself want to smack him for making such a scene. It wasn't funny! "He honestly likes you. Of all the girls in the world, he picks you to bite the bullet for."

I put my hands on my hips, the material of my jeans rough. "Excuse me, but what exactly are you trying to say? What's wrong with him liking me?"

'_He likes me_!' My mind cheered. '_If Boomer noticed it, then it has to be true_!'

Boomer looked me over, amused. "Well, girl, let's just say you're not his type."

I thought of Sadie and all the other fast, flirty girls that were hanging around. All the girls with perfect teeth and undying confidence. Girls who sleep with men like it's a hobby. No, I was nothing like the type of girls Butch was used to. But then again, he was nothing like any boy I'd ever met.

"So maybe he doesn't like me," I said, tossing my blonde hair over my shoulder and giving boomer an irritated look. It was kind of pointless, seeing as I was feeling a bit giddy. Sure, Butch himself hadn't admitted it, but if someone else had noticed his attention to me then maybe I wasn't crazy. Maybe he actually liked me.

"Look at you," Boomer grinned smugly, shadows falling over his eyes as his hair brushed against his cheekbones. "You're practically bouncin' off the walls, girl. You two are like little kids with a crush." He smirked. "Only slightly more dramatic and violent…"

A blush spread across my cheeks but I refused to answer him. Answering him would only give him more fuel. So instead my eyes narrowed as I raised my chin. I leveled him with a glare that would make Buttercup proud before turning on heels and marching towards the bar.

"Yeah…" I heard Boomer say after me, his voice thick and mocking. "I figured you liked him too."

I couldn't hold back my smile.

---

"You come here often?" Sadie giggled as she slid onto the barstool next to me. She crossed her long legs and adjusted her short, purple skirt with as much grace as she could muster.

I gave her a small smile, but said nothing. It was weird looking at her and knowing she'd slept with Butch. My stomach turned a bit at the thought of it, and I couldn't help but feel a tiny bit jealous. In my mind, though, I continued my gleeful mantra that had fueled me for the past ten minutes.

'_He likes me. He isn't sleeping with anyone else. He likes me. And he doesn't have to sleep with me to like me._'

"You haven't touched your drink," Sadie motioned towards the tall glass of amber liquid before me.

"I don't really like beer," I admitted as I slid the drink about an inch away from me. The cold glass left a trail of water across the wood and I frowned at it. The bartender hadn't even asked for my ID, and I had felt brave enough to actually order a beer. But after getting the drink I hadn't even touched it.

"Me either," Sadie said, rolling her eyes. "I drink it, but I hate it."

"Why drink it?" I looked back over at her. She was messing with her black hair, trying to make it look taller and fluffing at the curls.

"I don't know," She frowned softly, her dark painted lips curving and her forehead wrinkling slightly. She must be only a few years older than me. "I guess I do a lot of things I don't like to do. That's just life." She quickly smiled and gave me a happy look. "But anyway…I was wondering if I could ask you something."

"Sure," I shrugged, shifting my glass again and feeling a little weary.

"Why are you here?" She asked. She was smiling still, but for the first time I realized there was a wall built up around her eyes. She wasn't really smiling. She probably wasn't the least bit happy. "I mean…I may not know much, but I know those shoes you're wearing are more expensive than my apartment. And that jacket…that jacket can't be less than two-hundred dollars."

I bit my lip and looked away from her. Great, I really did stand out.

"I've heard about you, you know," She continued when she realized I wasn't going to reply. She leaned an elbow against the bar and gave me a solid look. Her tone wasn't mean, it more curious but still I felt on edge. "People on the street are talking about you. They don't know your name, but they know what you've done."

"And what have I done?" I asked with a feigned air of indifference, reaching forward and brought my glass to my lips. I rested it there for a second before taking a sip of the harsh drink. It didn't taste good, but it wasn't nearly as bad as I'd expected. I took another sip.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to read me. Her blue painted fingernails tapped against her knee.

"You've stolen a car," She began. I said nothing. "You hit a gang member with a pipe." Again I kept quit. I took another sip of my drink to keep myself occupied. "Your apartment got ransacked." I couldn't help but wince at that one. "And you moved in with one of the most dangerous men in town."

I let out a giggle, out of nervousness or lack of anything to say I wasn't sure. Sadie was still watching me and I shifted anxiously. But what was I supposed to say? She was right about everything, but I wasn't about to admit it. Not to someone I barely knew.

"I don't know where you're going with this," I told her plainly. I tipped my glass and let the beer swirl around. I couldn't seem to stop fidgeting and she wouldn't stop starring. "You shouldn't believe rumors," I added when she just continued to frown at me.

"I just want to know what you're doing here," She said at last, her spine straightening and her hands idling messing with her hair. "I just don't get it. You're obviously rich. You don't act or talk like any of the girls around here, including me. But still…you're tougher than you look, and you don't take crap from people. I mean…you're like my freakin' hero."

Wait. _What_?

"Hero?" I echoed lamely. What the heck. I figured some random girl fight over shoes or territory was about to break out. But, hero? Seriously. "What?"

Sadie nodded as if it were obvious. "Yeah. You, like, came out of nowhere, took on a gang and got yourself one of the hottest guys I've seen."

"It didn't happen exactly like that," I shook my head, smiling awkwardly.

"Butch didn't carry you back to his house when you were hurt?" She raised an eyebrow and I felt myself blush. How had she heard about that? "He didn't fix up your apartment after if got trashed?"

"Well…" I mumbled, slightly embarrassed.

"He's so good to you," She tilted her head. "And only you. I always knew he was good-looking. But he's not even the hottest guy around. It's more of the way he carries himself and acts. That's what makes him attractive. And you've got that all to yourself."

I shook my head, blushing furiously. "He's actually really cynical when you get to know him," I said, running my fingers through my hair. "And he can be stubborn and rude too, which really lessens his attractiveness after a while."

"Please," She rolled her eyes. "If I could get Butch Sawyer to look out for me like he does for you, I'd be counting my blessings. He doesn't even give me a second look."

"I hear he's given you a second look," I said plainly.

Sadie didn't falter, but didn't deny the implication either. Another twinge of jealousy made my stomach turn at the unsaid truth.

"Yeah," She grinned without much mirth. "He's given me more than just a second look, that's for sure. But no matter how many times he sleeps with me, he's never there when I wake up. And whenever I tried to make him jealous or mad, he was so indifferent it drove me insane. He never really _saw_ me. He just…"

Sadie trailed off, her face drawn collectively blank. I watched her, feeling apprehensive as I saw a look slide across her eyes.

"I would give up my favorite shoes to get Butch Sawyer to like me," She said, smiling a bit as if she were joking. "I'd give up anything for him to just be afraid to lose me. Even if it was just for a second."

I blinked and smiled sadly at her. "Butch is never afraid," I told her, because really I didn't know what else to say. "Not even for a second." I added as I slid my drink over for her to take a sip. She smiled gratefully but didn't say anything else to me. There was nothing to say. She knew that I'd seen it. She knew that I'd seen the jealousy in her eyes.

Yes, that careful wall Sadie Wilson had built up in her eyes had slipped, and we both knew it. And I also knew that I could never be friends with the girl sitting before me. Not because of my twisting jealous. Not because of our different behaviors. No, not because of that.

But because, in that quick moment where her guard had slipped, I realized what should have been obvious to me long ago.

Sadie was madly in love with Butch Sawyer.

And so was I.

---

I walked to the door at a deterred pace. It was too crowded to navigate properly but I really needed some fresh air. I knocked into people as I went and a few hollered angrily after me but didn't bother following. I ignored them and continued pushing through the groups of people in my way.

Finally I made it to the door, my white high heels digging into my feet and my hair a bit of a mess. I had a new glass of beer gripped tightly in my hand that I'd somehow managed to keep from spilling. I took a long sip of it before I practically leapt out into the cold, fresh air.

"Ouch!" I cried out as I collided with a solid body, much like I had done to Sadie about two hours ago. I lost my balance and fell roughly on my butt…or at least I would have if the person wouldn't have caught me.

"Careful," Butch scolded me, his hands on my shoulders, keeping me standing. His stoic face was illuminated by the neon lights of the bar and I glared up at him.

"Way to knock me down," I retorted sourly as he pulled me fully upright. I stepped easily away from his grip and brushed my hair back from my face. I felt something cold and wet and I looked down to see that I spilled my beer down the front of my outfit. The glass was now empty in my hands and I sighed.

"Have you been drinking?" I looked up to see Butch raising an amused eyebrow. I just scowled slightly and bent down to brush at my ruined shoes. They were Italian and now they were completely sodden and hopeless. Five-hundred dollars down the drain.

"Um, a little," I bit my lip and shrugged. "I've only had two so far."

Butch smirked.

"Well," I looked down at my beer-soaked clothes and frowned. "One and a half."

"Yeah," Butch nodded. "Sorry about knocking you down. I wasn't expecting you to come flying out the door like that. Especially not holding onto a beer."

"Aw," I smiled up at him. "Are you apologizing to me?" I reached out and poked his chest through his thick jacket. "How cute."

"Stop calling me cute," He shook his head, but he wasn't annoyed. Merely amused.

"You are cute," I said airily. I wasn't quite sure where it came from, but I just giggled stupidly after it slipped from my lips.

'_You're cute. And you like me. And I love you_.'

My hand still rested on his chest and I realized I hadn't pulled it back yet. I also realized I was probably a bit buzzed. But I couldn't find it in me to care. I felt happy and I could feel his heart beating steadily through his clothes. I slid my hand up slowly, my palm rubbing against the material of his coat until my fingers brushed the skin of his neck.

"I waited all day for you to show up," I whispered, my eyes trained on the slight stubble along his jaw. The cold wind whipped against me and I shivered. "Where were you?"

Butch was watching me closely, stoic as ever and his mouth drawn into a tight line. He drew his hands out his pockets and brought one up to grab mine. He unlatched my fingers from their slight hold on the collar of his jacket, my skin still brushing his. He dropped his hand back to his side, but I refused to let go.

So we both stood their, awkward and quiet as I held his hand and he didn't pull away.

"Well?" I pressed, finally looking up to see his eyes.

"Work," He said at last. His tone was measured and I felt the cold wind hit me again.

"You were at work all day?" I frowned. "I wanted…" I trailed off, feeling silly and oddly lightheaded, but not really able to control my talking. "I thought you were going to help me move in. Brick, Boomer, and Grubber all stopped by and I waited for you to show up but you never did. I kept thinking I'd see you, but you didn't show up. I bet you didn't even think you'd see me here tonight."

I could see his eyebrows slightly draw together like they always did when I confused him. "What—?"

"You're not avoiding me, right?" I asked, voicing my slight fear. "Because if you are, that's a jerk move. I didn't do anything, so you don't have the right to avoid me."

"Why would I avoid you?" He asked, sounding a bit annoyed.

"You always avoid me when you don't want to deal with me," I said plainly. "It's your way of getting out of answering all my questions and putting up with my talking and-"

"I wasn't avoiding you," Butch said in a low tone. "I just didn't feel like going home."

I opened my mouth to tell him how rude that was and how stupid his obscure responses were, but stopped myself.

Finally I sighed and nodded. "I guess you have the right to go where you want," I smiled lamely, feeling really silly but also a little put out. He liked me. I knew I he did. He had to. So why wouldn't he want to see me the last day I was 'living' with him? "You probably would have got in the way, anyway." I added, tilting me head and smiling wider.

"I sent Boomer and Brick over to help you," He said after moment of silence. The bar was still loud behind us and I could hear people laughing and music playing through the thick door. But no one else was outside smoking or anything. The cold air kept most people in.

"They bought me a table," I said, nodding. He chuckled.

"They probably stole it," He smirked and I realized his head was bent down closer to me than before. I noticed how good he smelled compared to the rank alcohol that was coming off of my clothes.

"Yeah, probably," I smiled back.

He reached up with his spare hand and took my empty glass from me. I let it slip from my fingers and he reached around me to set it on the dumpster's lid. Our eyes never broke contact and I couldn't help but let my body draw in closer to his warmth. It was freezing outside, after all.

"How about we go back inside and I'll buy you another drink," Butch said, smirking still and the white of his teeth and curve of his lips caught my attention.

"Sure," I nodded, our bodies somehow closer and our mouths only inches apart.

"I'm not avoiding you," He said, so low that the wind almost carried his words away. I could hardly focus on his whole face as he drew me even closer. The wind was still cold against my back but we were aligned perfectly so that not even the wind could rip between us as our chest pressed up together.

"I know," I smiled just as our lips met.

It was an almost tender kiss at first, just a mere press of lips. But still my whole body felt on fire. Without knowing, my lips parted and soon the kiss became stronger. Our lips slid and moved slowly against each other. He tasted like cigarettes and cold rain and I tried to breathe him in. The wall was hard against my back as he guided me and pressed me against it. I slipped my hand from his and tangled it into the front of his jacket, keeping him close. His body was warm against me and his hands ran along my sides. They brushed along my hips and his fingers curved around to grip my butt and pull me hard against him. Our tongues came into play and I did my best to keep up and kiss harder.

The longer we kissed, the more relaxed I felt. Gone was the haze of alcohol, and the anxiety, and the questions about feelings and Sadie and where we stood. I didn't need to talk about that stuff, not as long as he kept kissing me like nothing else mattered.

A few, long, heated moments later we broke apart. There was no gasping but we were both a little out of breath. He kept his face close to mine and I pressed a chaste kiss against the corner of his mouth before leaning back against the wall.

I smiled at him, breathing heavy. He smirked and rested his forehead against mine, our breath still mingling and our hands still tangled on each other. I moved and tucked my head beneath his chin and slipped my arms around his waist. He held onto me in an improvised embrace. We stayed that way for a long time, and I let my fingers trace the hard planes of his back that could still be felt beneath his jacket.

"I didn't want to come home today," His voice ghosted across the top of my head and I could feel his chest vibrate as he spoke. "Because you weren't going to be there."

"And did that bother you?" I asked gently, even though I somehow knew the answer already.

"It shouldn't have, but it did," He sounded annoyed, but with himself, not me. "I wasn't supposed to get attached to you." He said as if either of us had a choice picking our fate, but still his hands gripped me tightly.

"Yeah," I smiled against his chest as I buried myself as close to him as I could. "Well I'm pretty attached to you too."

'_I love you, I love you, I love you…'_

"I'm so fucking screwed," I heard him mutter darkly, but that only made me giggle. His hand was tangling itself in my hair, betraying his resentment for my closeness.

I shifted my head so that I could kiss the warm skin of his throat.

"You're going to be the death of me," He moved to capture my lips.

"Well," I said in-between the lingering press of his lips. "At least we'll both go down together."

He kissed me hard.

---

I woke up slowly, the pale sun from my window almost blinding me as my eyes cracked open. My head was pounding viciously and it felt like it was made of lead. I moaned, feeling instantly miserable and remembering how stupid I had been to drink the night before. Buttercup had always warned me about hangovers.

I pushed myself up to sit, my head pounding a bit harder at the movement and I shut my eyes to stop the spinning.

"Oh," I winced as I placed a hand against my temple. "I will never drink again."

With labored, slow motions I swung my feet off the bed and crawled out. At my feet Harper and Dumas hopped up and watched me roll my shoulder until they weren't so stiff. I managed to pat one of them on the head before I fell back and sat on the edge of my bed again. My head was spinning.

"Morning," Butch suddenly appeared at my bedroom door, his voice much too loud.

"Shush," I begged him. "Quit talking."

"Head hurting?" He asked, his voice slightly lower. He walked over to my bed, nudging Harper out of the way so that he could sit down next to me. The bed bent with his weight and I automatically leaned my head against his shoulder. It was much too heavy for my neck to keep holding it up.

"Why did you let me drink?" I whined, picking at the material of my jeans. I was still in the same outfit that I wore the night before and I felt immensely gross. I wanted a shower. And an aspirin. And a nap. "My head is killing me now. I want to chop it off."

"Nah," He elbowed me softly. "Then I'd only be able to stare at your tits when I looked at you. I doubt you'd like that."

I pulled away and smacked him hard against the shoulder. He was smirking and I couldn't help but giggle.

"You're so crude," I complained, trying my best to push him off the bed but he leaned against my hands like deadweight. "I don't want to talk you now."

"It's not my fault you got drunk," He said plainly. "I didn't exactly want to haul your ass home last night."

I shook my head, remembering the night before. I hadn't done anything stupid, thankfully, but still I'd been pretty tipsy. I remembered swaying to the music and laughing really loud. I had eventually drawn enough attention to myself that Butch had thought it better to just drag me out. I couldn't blame him though. He probably wanted to get me out before I jumped up on the bar and started singing 'Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?' or something to that same effect.

"Did I embarrass you?" I rubbed at my forehead.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't really care what anyone in there thinks. Although…Boomer and Ace did think you were pretty entertaining."

"Great," I groaned. "I'm going to have to hear them pick at me for the next lifetime." I suddenly remembered something else that had happened the night before and I sat up straighter. "Oh yeah, I just want to warn you that Boomer…well…he's kind of going to be teasing you later."

"About what?" Butch raised an eyebrow as he leaned back on his elbows. I fell backwards to lie out beside him. He looked quizzically down at my face and I grinned goofily up at him. His dark brow was knitted together and his black hair was disheveled from sleep. I wondered if had slept on my couch.

"He kind of thought we'd been sleeping together," I blushed and stared up at the ceiling, my hands resting on my stomach. "But I told him we weren't…and he thought it was hilarious."

Butch let out an annoyed sigh and shook his head. "He's an ass," He muttered darkly. "But I can handle what he has to say."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "For telling him that...I mean, I should have realized he'd make a joke out of it. I just wasn't thinking."

"Well," Butch shifted to one elbow, his stoic face looking down on me with consideration. "We could just fuck. That way he wouldn't have anything to say."

I laughed, pushing him away and sitting up. This time when I moved to stand my body allowed it. Butch sat up on the edge of my bed and looked up at me. His lips were frowning but his eyes were clear. Moment like this I wondered if he was happy. Sometimes he almost looked happy. _Almost_.

"You really are crude," I informed him as I smiled with slight adoration.

His hand came up to grip my hip. His thumb rubbed at the exposed skin of my midriff. Chills went up my spine at his touch and I leaned my hips towards his hand. Without hesitation he pulled me onto his lap and I wrapped my arms around his neck. It was such an intimate pose I was shocked Butch would attempt it. Didn't couples sit like that? Sadie had sat in Snakes lap the night before.

"Thanks for taking me home," I smiled, leaning forward and kissing the gash on his cheek. His skin was warm my kiss was chaste.

"How bad does your head hurt?" He asked in a monotone manner. His dark green eyes were tracing my lips in a bored manner.

"Not too bad," I lied. "What about you? Do the scratches on your back still hurt?"

"No," He replied. We both knew he would have said the same thing even if they were killing him.

"I'm kind of hungry," I told him, smiling a bit anxiously. "Actually, I'm kind of starving."

He smirked, one of his hands messing with my long hair. He tugged at it and I watched the long strands wrap around his tanned fingers. My hair had gotten really long, mostly because I didn't have the time to go get it cut. Or the money. It was down to the small of my back and I wasn't used to the maintenance it required.

"Boys are so lucky to have short hair," I teased gently before slowly scooting closer to him. I decided to test him. "Maybe I'll just cut it all off," I sighed, fingering the long golden strand with feigned indifference. I watched Butch from the corner of my eye, trying to see his reaction. "You know…shave it. It'd be a lot easier to manage if I did that."

Butch sent me a bemused look that clearly said he was planning on humoring me...for now.

"I could even get a Mohawk," I threw out.

"If that's what you want," He said with a small shrug.

I turned my head and raised one eyebrow at him.

"You wouldn't care?" I asked, disbelief coloring my tone.

"Why would I care if you go punkrock on me?" He seemed a bit annoyed, but I was still in his lap so I knew it was probably just for show.

"Wouldn't you—I mean…I wouldn't look pretty with buzzed hair," I mumbled. _Pretty like Sadie…_

He shifted me in his lap so that I was practically nestled in between his thighs. He looked me over. "Do you think I like you because you're pretty?"

"Is that a trick question?" I smiled jokingly.

He reached his hand up and nudged my shoulder slightly and I shied away from his touch. We were grinning ironically at each other.

"You like me though?" I asked suddenly and Butch went very still. I pressed on, determined not to lose my nerve. "I mean…you said you liked me."

"No I didn't," He said lowly.

"Yes, you did," I argued, growing a bit irritated. "You said '_Do you think I like you because you're pretty_?'. That was implying that you liked me. And last night you said you were attached to me, and that you were upset we weren't going to be living together. I remember that."

"Stop talking Bubbles," Butch growled at me, but I just sent him an annoyed glare.

"Come on, be a man and admit you like me. It's not that hard," I poked his chest, feeling slightly indignant. He had to like me. I couldn't possibly like him so much and him feel nothing. "Do you want me to force you? Because I can."

"I think you're annoying," He said coldly. "And you're not my type."

"That's why you like me," I grinned, refusing to let his petty mood bring me down. I was feeling brave. "Admit it."

He suddenly frowned. I raised an eyebrow but before I could question him I was suddenly rolled over and pushed down into my bed. "Fine, I admit it." He said darkly and I swallowed.

Butch hovered over me in an eerily familiar position. I opened my mouth to speak but his lips were against my ear, his breath ghosting against my skin and making me stay quiet. "I admit that I like your hair," He said into my ear before pulling up and looking down at me. There was a heated look in his eyes that made my stomach flutter. "And I like your eyes." He leaned in and I shut my eyes as he kissed them so softly I barely felt the press of his lips on my eyelids. "And I like your nose." His lips then pressed against the bridge of my nose and I giggled softly. "And I like your lips." I kissed him back as our lips met in a quick, tender motion. "And I like the place where your neck meets your shoulder," He kissed at my pulse and a small sound surfaced from my throat as I practically melted. "And I like the way you moan."

"What else do you like?" I opened my eyes and watched him calmly.

"I like your chest," He smirked and suddenly his hand slid up along my stomach and cupped one of my breasts within his palm. I swallowed as he ran his thumb over the mound of flesh. My body began to lock up, heat pooling low within my stomach.

"Butch…" I said, although I wasn't exactly pushing him off.

"And I like your hips," He rumbled on. His hand left my breast and I let out a shuddering sigh as it trailed down to skim the skin of my hip.

"Just that?" I raised an eyebrow and found myself frowning despite the way my body was humming. "You only like my body? Nothing else?"

Butch frowned as well, his eyes suddenly serious. We stared at each other for a long moment and I willed him to deny it. I willed him to tell me he liked all of me. Every aspect of me. I couldn't bear to think he only liked me for my body. If that was true, what made many any different than the other girls he occupied himself with?

"Bubbles…" His tone was emotionless and for once I wished he'd just sound sad or remorseful or the least bit sorry. "It's dangerous for me to like someone. It'll just end up with them hurt."

"That's not true," I argued, my emotion in my throat and my hands nervously gripping the comforter. He was still hovering over me, jaded and angry and so very imperfect. If I could ever fix a man and make him happy, it would be Butch Sawyer. "I'm not going to get hurt."

"But you already have," He replied. "People already consider you as bait to get to me. Do you know how badly they'll be after you if they knew we were together? If I admitted I liked you, it'd be like testing fate. You'd get hurt, and I'd be to blame."

"You act like the world doesn't want you to be happy," I said slowly. "The sky won't cave in if you admit you like me." _We could be happy_…

"Bad things happen to the people I'm close to," Butch's body was now moving off of mine and I felt myself grow cold without him. "It never fails."

"Your brothers are fine," I pointed out, desperately trying to prove him wrong. Even if he never admitted he liked me, he couldn't hide his feeling for people forever. He couldn't always think people would get hurt just because he liked them.

"My brothers are strong, and that's the only reason they've survived so far," He was sitting on the edge of my bed and I sat up beside him. We weren't touching and we weren't looking at each other. From the corner of my eyes I saw him rubbing a scar on his hand, an almost nervous habit. He had many scars.

"I won't get hurt," I said softly. "I know you're worried…but I'll be fine."

"My mom said that too," His voice was unattached and I looked over at him. His dark green eyes were trained on my floor. "She insisted she'd be fine. She always thought everything was going to be alright. Despite everything that was going against her…she still found ways to be positive. Just like you."

I didn't know what to say.

So I said nothing.

"When she died, I couldn't help but feel cold," He continued. "She had done everything she could for my brothers and me…and it had gotten her killed. _I_ had gotten her killed." His hand balled into fists against his knees and I watched his knuckles turn white. "She died because of me."

A sinking feeling filled my stomach.

"That's not true," I gently argued. "Butch…"

"How would you know?" He looked over at me, angry and tense. "You couldn't possibly understand what I went through. You never had to see the only person in the world that ever took care of you being loaded in a body bag and driven away. You didn't have to look at your mom's body and know that she wasn't ever going to breathe again." He took a sharp breath, his tone so cold I felt as if I were frozen with each word that fell from his lips. "You can't understand."

"I can't," I said at last, and Butch just scowled and looked away. I swallowed before trying again. "I can't understand. I never got to see my mom alive. She was dead before I even opened my eyes."

He wouldn't look at me, his body still stiff with anger.

"She had gotten weaker and weaker during childbirth," I said, the words coming out so fast I didn't even remember thinking them. "And the doctors already knew she wasn't going to live very long. But they tried their best to deliver my sisters and me. Blossom came out fine, and Buttercup came out shortly after her. But I guess she was too weak to keep pushing, and I took a few more hours to deliver. It wore her out too much, I suppose, and by the time she had me she just shut down."

"Was your dad angry?" Butch's voice startled me. I hadn't thought he'd been listening.

"He was devastated," I said with a frown. "But he didn't blame me or any of my sisters. I think the hardest part for him was that there was suppose to be one more baby. Bunny. My grandmother was in the delivery room, and she said that there wasn't really a chance for her. I don't think she was even alive when the doctors got her out."

Butch was scowling when he faced me again and I looked away from him.

"I've never really had to tell anyone about that," I admitted quietly. "People always knew our story, and I just grew used to everyone understanding. I always hard trouble talking about it. My whole life, I guess I just felt guilty. I couldn't help but feel as if it were my fault."

"You were just a baby," Butch said bluntly. "You can't be blamed."

"You were just a kid," I countered. "You can't be blamed either."

He sighed out and ran a hand distractedly through his hair. Outside the wind rustled against my window and I heard my heater humming in the other room. The soft material of my comforter caught against my fingernails as I picked at it. My heart beat for the boy sitting next to me in silence and I wondered if I could have picked a more world-weary boy to fall for.

"I won't ask how she died," I said at last. "You'll tell me if you want me to know. But I will ask if you think she'd be happy with the way you keep yourself guarded. I don't think she'd want you to blame yourself and feel as if the world is against you. My mom died giving life to us. I like to think she wants me to do my best to stay happy."

"You see the world and you think it's such a wonderful place," Butch said dully. "But bad people are out there. Good people get hurt. And innocent people die. That's just the way it is. If I can keep you safe by keeping you at an arms-length, then I will. I'm not testing fate. Not if it means you'll be hurt."

"But we're already testing fate," I smiled and nudged him. "When you kiss me, we test fate. Each time you look at me, I can feel the way you like me. You think I can't tell, but I can." I looked at him closely. "So what are you so afraid of? Admitting it out loud, or admitting it to yourself?"

He was staring at me oddly. "I don't understand you sometimes," He told me without mirth. "Wouldn't you rather be safe? Why do you stay around here?"

"Because I like you," I said plainly_. I love you, I love you_... "And deep-down, you like me too." I blushed but held his gaze. "And you're stubborn and frustrating and I can't imagine not arguing with you. If I die tomorrow because you like me, I'll die happy because for once in my life I've allowed myself to completely and ultimately dive headfirst into danger and not care about the consequences. Just sitting next to you is more enthralling then kissing anyone else. You are worth anything fate has in store for me."

I reached over and slid my hand beneath his chin. I cupped his jaw and guided his face towards mine. To my surprise, he wasn't scowling. Instead he was so still I almost missed the tensing in his cheek at my touch. His green eyes were so close to revealing an emotion and I was scared to imagine what it was.

"So kiss me," I smiled softly. "And tell me you like me. Even if tomorrow you don't mean it anymore, I just want to hear it today. I don't care about fate. I won't get hurt."

Our lips met.

And my heart beat harder.

And I slid my hand along his battered cheek.

"I like you," Butch said so darkly it was almost a curse. But he was still kissing me, his mouth pressing so hard I knew my lips would bruise. His fingers tangled into my hair and I felt as if he were trying to breathe me in. Trying to keep me there. "I like all of you." The rough pads of his fingers moved to trail along my neck. "And I will be the only man you will _ever_ kiss again." His lips pressed again. "You're mine."

I shivered and moved closer to him.

Fate is cruel, I realized solemnly. But sometimes it gives you gifts along the way. Small moments and people that make the pain worthwhile. No matter what it threw at me now, I had this moment in time where he liked me. He had admitted it, and he meant it. And nothing fate forced upon me could take that away.

---

I walked distractedly up the front steps of my apartment building. My bag of laundry wasn't too heavy, but still it was bulky and awkward to hold. I welcomed the warm of the building, thankful to finally get out to the wretched cold I'd been shivering through.

It'd been a week since I'd moved back into my own place and already I'd gotten back into my own routine. It wasn't as lonely as I first thought it would be. I was busy with work, my two new dogs, and trying to make my apartment comfortable, so I barely noticed the lack of Butch's company. Well…not for the most part.

He walked me to work and picked me up everyday. I knew it was to make sure I was safe, but still I felt happy to have those certain moments with him. We didn't see each other any other time. I was busy and he was always occupied with "work".

Of course, I was slowly realizing that "work" was becoming a code-name for whatever little missions Ace was sending him off on. The Audley Boys hadn't made a move lately, and I could tell the Gang Greene Gang and all three Sawyer brothers were getting anxious. I just hoped they didn't get foolish and get hurt.

"Bubbles?" My landlord's voice snapped me from my musings and I looked up at him. "There's someone here to see you. I told her to wait by the stairs. I wasn't sure where you were."

"Okay, thank you," I said quickly. _Her_? Who could it be?

For a quick moment of panic I thought it was Sadie, coming to visit me. Even though the girl wasn't mean, I still didn't really want to see her. We had left on an awkward note the other night, both realizing we had feelings for the same man and not knowing what to say to each other. I didn't want to have to see her again, knowing she'd slept with Butch and I'd barely had the courage to kiss him on my own. And I didn't think she'd want to see me, knowing I had somehow got him to like me and she'd never gotten him to even care.

But as I turned to corner to get to the stairwell, I realized it wasn't Sadie coming to visit me…

…and I suddenly wished that it was.

"Buttercup?!" I asked, shocked as I met eyes with my sister.

And boy, did she look pissed.

---

"So tell me why I had to find out about you and Andrew from _Princess_," Buttercup demanded as I sat next to her on my hand-me-down couch. Her light green eyes were narrowed with annoyance and she shifted to look at me. "I'm your sister. I shouldn't have to hear through the grapevine that you broke up with your fiancée."

"I'm so sorry," I said quickly, messing nervously with my hair. I was still recovering from my shock of seeing her in my apartment building. I never expected one of my sisters to come visit me, and I was suddenly aware of how trashy my apartment really looked. "I really didn't want to talk about it, so I figured Blossom would tell you."

"Blossom assumed _you_ told me," She spat back, clearly still mad.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, not quite sure what else to say. I could hear Harper and Dumas growling from behind my bedroom door where I'd locked them up. Buttercup heard them too and merely raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on the sound.

"Quit apologizing," She ordered, standing up and pacing a bit. She brushed her hands against the material of her black jeans and frowned. "I'm just mad I had to hear from Princess. You should have told me yourself."

"I know," I leaned back against the cushion. "I was just really sick of talking about it. I didn't want to make another call."

"I wouldn't have questioned you about it if you asked me not to," Buttercup stopped and sent me a harsh look, her long black hair falling from its tie. "Heck, I pretty much saw this coming. If you would have called, I would have been supportive. I wouldn't have bitched you out like I am now."

"What do you mean you 'saw this coming'?" I asked, suspicious.

"Please," She rolled her eyes. "You never loved Andrew. You just thought you did. Everyone around you kept pushing you to him, so you went with it. I knew you'd finally get a back-bone one day and see your relationship for what it really was. I knew you'd realize you didn't want to marry that mamma's boy."

I frowned and shook my head. "You saw this the whole time but never told me?"

"You needed to realize it on your own," She said simply as she waved off my question with a quick flick of her wrist.

"Gee thanks," I muttered. "Glad to know you have my back."

"What?" She asked, crossing her arms and raising a dark eyebrow. "Would you have believed me if I told you that a few weeks ago? No, you would have just tried harder to love him because you were nervous. You have to realize your own mistakes and fix them yourself."

"Well…" I sighed, annoyed but knowing I had no reason to be. "I guess it all worked out anyway."

"Everyone back home thinks you're crazy," Buttercup said sharply. I frowned.

"Do _you _think I'm crazy?" I asked, curious.

"Of course," She smiled teasingly. "But not because you dumped Andrew. I actually think that's one of the smartest things you've ever done."

My lips formed a small smile. "Do you think I'm crazy for moving here?" I asked, indicating to the dirty, meager apartment we were in. Buttercup hadn't acted like she'd noticed it yet, but my comment made her look around. Her eyes scanned the walls, the couch, the table and three chairs.

"Oddly enough," She began, still looking around. "I kind of like it here."

I bit my lip to quit smiling. I hadn't expected her to like it.

"Good, I'm glad," I said as I stood up off the couch and stretched a bit. "Because I need you to tell dad how happy I am and how clean and safe my apartment building is."

"So you want me to lie?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I am happy," I argued, sticking my tongue out at her. "And my apartment is safe. I have two dogs."

"Dogs?" Buttercup laughed. "Is that what that noise is? I thought there were some wolverines behind that door. I just wasn't going to ask."

I pushed her playfully. "They're dogs. And good dogs too. They guard me."

"Good for them," She rolled her eyes.

"Here," I walked over to my fridge. "Let me make you some food."

"You cook now?" She seemed amused.

"Quite well, actually," I bragged as I grabbed some fish out of the freezer. "Prepare to be amazed."

Buttercup just laughed shortly before plopping down on one of the three chairs around me new table. Boomer said one of the chairs had fallen off the truck on the ride over, and that's why it was an incomplete set. I wondered if they just couldn't steal four chairs and had to make due with what they could.

"You really are happy here, aren't you?" Buttercup was looking idly down at her short, blunt nails. She messed with the chipped black fingernail polish that coated them as I gave her a look over my shoulder.

"Yeah," I shrugged as I began to pull out some pots and rinsed off my hands. The burn I had gotten a little over a week ago was healed, but a darkened line remained to show where it had been. "I'm happy. I mean, I'm still trying to figure some stuff out right now, but I'm not miserable. I really do love living here."

"That's good I guess," Buttercup conceded as she leaned against the table. "You're probably going through a lot of stress. Bills, work, Andrew…"

"Yeah," My bare feet walked across the cold floor and I quickly grabbed a bowl off the top of my fridge. "It's all pretty hard to get used to, but I'm working on it. What about you? What's been up with your life? The last I heard you were dating that famous sky diver. Is that still working out?"

Buttercup snorted. "Yeah right," She muttered. "He was such a baby. Sure, he could sky dive, but when I suggested rock climbing or four-wheeling he completely backed out. And that stuff isn't even that bad! I don't understand what's wrong with these men. It's like they act all tough, but the moment a girl acts tough too they turn out to be wimps."

"Maybe you're dating the wrong type of men," I stirred the bowl of breadcrumbs and vinegar as I leaned back and watched my sister. She just rolled her eyes. "Although…I'm not too sure how a guy can skydive and not be brave." I admitted, looking down into the bowl and stirring harder.

Buttercup laughed. "Trust me, it can happen."

"Try dating a guy who doesn't claim to be 'adventurous'," I suggested mildly. "That way you won't get disappointed when he's not."

We were both quiet for a short moment. I could hear a baby crying down the hall and some people passing by my door were laughing a bit loudly. My faucet dripped and Buttercup leaned back as the chair squeaked. I realized it was probably a bit awkward for me to be giving her advice on her love life, especially when mine had just gone down the drain. Well…at least with Andrew.

"I just meant…" I began, trying to correct myself. I knew how hard it was to listen to people tell you what to do about a guy.

"No, no." Buttercup waved me off. She was staring down at the table with interest; her black hair glinted in the grayish light that came in through my window. Some color tinted the pale skin of her cheek and she frowned. "You're right. I have high expectations. And I keep getting disappointed when they don't turn out the way I planned for them to."

"Join the club," I laughed gently. I grabbed a tomato and a knife and placed it in front of her. "Here," I smiled as I slid into the seat next to her. "Chop this up while I stir."

She didn't object and we both worked in a companionable silence.

"You're doing just fine," She told me after we rake the tomato slices into the bowl. "With your life, I mean. You knew what you wanted and you went for it. We're more alike then I would have thought. You're a pretty tough chick."

I rolled my eyes. "Please," I scoffed. "I never know what I really want. I thought I did, but it just keeps changing."

"Well," She stood up and began to wash her hands. Her light green eyes looked out my window and scanned the city block around us. "What do you want now?"

"I don't know," I grinned embarrassedly at her, my hair falling to cover my face.

"That boy you live next to, right?" She turned to ask.

I looked up, startled. She was grinning solemnly and her eyes had a knowing look in them.

"Dad told me about him," She informed me. "Didn't you bring him over one night?" I nodded. "Yeah, well I guess a maid saw you slip into his room during the night or something. Dad just told her she saw wrong, but he told me later that you probably did. He thinks you like this guy a lot."

"_Oh. My. God_," I said with utter mortification. "Dad thinks I _slept_ with him?"

"Yeah, and so does half our cleaning staff now," Buttercup grinned teasingly but I could only gape stupidly. My cheeks grew warm and I rubbed at my temples.

"Why didn't dad say something?" I felt so upset. "I've talked to him since then and he didn't even mention Butch. And all along he thought I…oh my god. This is horrible. No wonder he didn't ask too many questions about why I broke it off with Andrew. He just kept asking if I was alright."

Buttercup laughed. "Well, just be glad he didn't go berserk and demand you to move back home."

I covered my face with my hands and shook my head. "That's so messed up." I said into my palms. "I can't believe someone else thinks I've been sleeping with him."

"Wait," Buttercup held up a hand, a smile still on her face. "Someone else? More people think you've been shacking up with this guy?"

"Ugh," I muttered, placing the bowl on the table and crossing my arms. "Just his brother. He thought that too."

"You've already met his family?" She asked, her eyes widened slightly and her smile brighter.

"It'd be hard not to meet his brothers," I explained lamely. "They're pretty…close to each other."

"So who is this mysterious guy? What's his name again-oh yeah, Butch," She tucked some hair behind her ear and gave me a nosey look. "Spill, sister."

I smiled miserably, still feeling embarrassed beyond belief. "I can't believe dad thinks I slept with him! How can you even think about gossiping when you know how mortified I am about this? Oh god, what if he treats me different now?"

"Chill out," Buttercup moved to sit on top of my table, her feet dangling above the ground. "You should be happy he's handled it so well. He knows you're growing up and there's nothing he can do to stop it. Besides, he lets Blossom live with her boyfriend and they're not exactly married. I'm pretty sure dad is lenient on the morals thing."

"Jeez," I muttered sourly. "I can't believe the maid saw that. The hallway was so dark…"

A mischievous smile lit up my sister's face. She leaned down closer and grinned.

"So…" She began in a sing-song voice. "How was it?"

"How was what?" I muttered, annoyed. "Sneaking around?"

"No!" She laughed loudly. "The sex! How was sleeping with him? I don't know this guy but I'm assuming-"

"No, no, no, no, no!" I stuttered out, putting my hands up to halt her words. "No! I am not sleeping with him. I never did and I don't have any plans to. So please, just stop that train of thought before I have a heart attack. I can't believe everyone is so quick to assume I'd fall into bed with him! I hardly know him."

"But you like him," Buttercup contoured back.

"Yeah," I laughed. "I like a lot of people but I don't sleep with them."

She scowled at my humor. "But you **really** like him. Why else would you bring him home, sneak into his room, and leave Andrew for him?"

"I didn't leave Andrew for him!" I argued.

"Then why'd you leave him?" Buttercup shot back. "Lord knows he was the perfect man. I thought the hands of God himself were going to have to rip you from him."

"Maybe they did," I stood up and paced a bit. "Maybe everything was just working against us and no one ever realized it before."

"Everyone I knew was pulling for you and Andrew to be married and happy," Buttercup frowned.

"I know," I sighed. "But…but things are different now. _I_'m different now. Too much happened for me to still marry Andrew."

"What happened?" Buttercup seemed curious, but I wasn't sure how to answer her.

"I don't know," I mumbled. "Just lots of things. I felt this whole disconnection from Andy, from home, from everyone there. It was like I was a stranger whenever I went back there. I felt so out of place and…and then I came back here and everything just fit. Things are hard here, and people aren't always nice, but I just like it here."

"Well…" Buttercup looked at me for a long time, her light green eyes guarded. "I never thought I'd see the day when my own sister didn't belong with me."

"It's not you," I said quickly. "Or Blossom. I'm fine with you guys. It's just…everything else."

She let out a short breath. "You really do like this place, don't you?" She frowned.

"I think it's more like I love the opportunities this place has given me," I admitted. "No one knows me here. I don't have to be this baby who can't look out for herself. There are people here who actually think _I'm_ strong. I have responsibilities and choices. I can just live my own life."

"I guess you're lucky then," She gave me a small grin, but she wasn't mocking me. "You finally got to grow up."

"Yeah," I laughed. "I still am."

She slid from the table and stood there awkwardly for a moment. We both looked around, not quite sure what to say.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Andrew," I said at last.

"Don't be," She grinned. "I'm just happy you figured out what was right."

"I think I'm still working on that too," I muttered.

"Maybe this guy," She began, shifting her feet as she spoke. "Maybe he's the real deal."

"I doubt it," I laughed. "He's not exactly 'boyfriend material'." _But I really hope you're right._

"Sure he's not," A teasing look filled her eyes. "But he's a pretty good kisser, right?"

I blushed hotly and stammered a bit. "Ho-How'd you know I kissed him?"

"Oh please," She pushed my shoulder jokingly. "I could see that bite mark on you neck from a mile away. And I doubt that's from your dogs."

My hand flew up to cover the spot on my neck where Butch had sucked at over a week ago when he'd pinned me to his bed. That'd been the night I'd given him a massage and things got a little out of hand. The mark hadn't gone away yet, and I blushed when I realized I'd forgotten to put some makeup over it.

"Oh god," I giggled, looking away with embarrassment. "Please don't tell Blossom about this."

"She already knows," I gave her a shocked look, my hand still on my neck. "What? She saw it when you were at her house the other day. We've both been dying with curiosity, but she was too polite to ask you about it. She said it was an inappropriate time. I don't really care about any of that."

"I'm going to go curl up in a corner and die," I said sarcastically as I turned away from my sister.

She laughed loudly and followed after me. "So…" She called as she kept at my heels. "He's a _really_ good kisser."

"Shut up!" I laughed as I ran into my bathroom and shut the door behind me.

"There's no point of getting concealer out now, Bubbles," Buttercup teased from the other side of the door. "The damage is done. I've already seen it!"

"Go away," I kicked the door as I scrambled to find my makeup bag.

---

"I'm glad I got to see you," I hugged Buttercup to me as we stood out in the cold. She gave me a quick embrace before we pulled away and smiled at each other. It was dark outside now, and I could see her smile in the dim light of the streetlamp.

"Thanks for the dinner," She nodded, shoving her hands into her pockets for warmth. "And entertainment."

"Stop teasing me," I scolded her, but smiled none the less.

"I guess I'll see you soon," She shrugged. "Just try and keep me updated until then, okay? If I have to hear about you getting pregnant from Princess I'll kill myself. No joke."

"I'm not going to get pregnant," I glared at her.

"Sure," She smiled mockingly back. "Just remember to use protection when the hot guy next-door mauls you again."

"Taxi!" I yelled, finally seeing the cab I called pull up. I did my best to ignore Buttercup's sniggers as I pulled the door open for her. "You can leave now," I told her plainly, but I couldn't help but smile.

"See you soon," She pulled me into another embrace, this time not letting go. "Be careful," She said into my ear. "It really isn't too safe around here, and I don't want you getting hurt, you got that?"

"I'm going to be fine," I said sweetly.

We pulled away and she gave me a hard look.

"You really did grow up," She said at last. A small frown pulled at her lips. "When did that happen?"

I shrugged. "It was a slow process; you probably just didn't realize it was going on."

"Just be careful," She said again, this time meaning something completely different. "Some men aren't meant to be trusted. Sometimes things just don't work out the way you intend for it to."

"I know," I smiled and gently nudged her towards the cab. "Come on, you need to get home."

"Bye," She said as she slid into the taxi.

"Bye, I love you," I replied before shutting the door. I stepped back and waved as the taxi pulled away. It drove for a while before turning a corner and disappearing from sight. I sighed and wrapped my arms around myself, feeling colder now that my sister wasn't there.

I moved to walk back towards the steps when I heard the hallow smack of rubber against pavement. I looked over to see Jazz running down the sidewalk, a basketball in her hands. She tried in vain to dribble it, but had no real control. I smiled and stopped to see her try a few more times.

"Jazz, what are you doing out here?" I called to her. She stopped dribbling and looked over towards me. She squinted in the dim lighting, but smiled brightly when she saw who was talking to her. Her shiny black hair was a mess still, and it fell into her eyes.

"I'm trying to bounce the ball," She complained, again letting the ball drop. She smacked it a few good times, but couldn't manage to dribble it right.

"You're going to freeze," I waved for her to come back over. "Come on inside, I'm sure Mrs. Anderson is probably worried sick about you."

"Okay," She said easily. "Just let me try one more time."

"Fine," I nodded, taking a step towards her, but stopping. "How about you dribble over to me, okay?"

"Okay," She agreed, sound excited by the prospect.

I watched her drop the ball again, the bounce of it making echoes against the tall buildings. She began to come closer to me, her eyes trained hard on the ball. One bounce. Two bounces. Three…

"Oops," I heard her mutter as the ball hit her foot and rolled off into an alley. "One second!" She yelled to me before disappearing in between the buildings.

I shifted, feeling extremely cold and wishing for a thicker jacket. I clenched and unclenched my cold hands, watching the space Jazz had disappeared into. I waited. And waited. And soon I felt my stomach churn and my throat tighten. I listened for the sound of the ball bouncing, but nothing came. She didn't come back out.

"Jazz," I said, walking quickly towards where she had went. Fear made me move faster and soon I was at the alley's mouth. "Jazz!?" I yelled, turning the corner and stopping.

"Shhhh….." The man in front of me muttered. He was bathed in shadows but I could see the glint of the gun he was holding. The gun he was holding to Jazz's head.

I froze, startled into an immobile state. "Let her go," My voice was thick was anger and panic and I balled my fists up at my side.

"I don't think so," He responded, shifting his hold on the small girl in his arms. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized tears were rolling down her face, but I couldn't focus on that. All I could focus on was the gun he was now pointing at me. The barrel of it rose to level with my face.

"You're making a mistake," I managed to speak around my fear. "You don't know who you've grabbed. If you knew who her brother was…"

"I know exactly who her brother is," The man motioned for me to step into the alley. "And I know exactly what I am doing."

I took a step closer to him, my mind frozen and unable to think of anything better to do. I heard Jazz whimper and figured it'd be better to do what this man said. He was still holding the gun, his other hand gripping Jazz so tight his knuckles were paled. My footsteps echoed off the walls of the alley.

"I don't know who you are," The man's voice was raspy, and dead of emotion. "But you just got yourself into a world of trouble, girl. You should have just minded your own business and went on your way. Now it's too late. I can't have any witnesses."

"You don't have to hurt her," I said pleadingly. A large, fat tear gathered in the corner of Jazz's eye before slowly spilling down. She was watching me, petrified and unable to talk. "Please. Just don't hurt her."

"It's too late," He repeated, almost solemnly. "I have no choice."

My throat tightened and I swallowed painfully. "Please," I said quietly. "If you hurt her you'll just get hurt back."

"Stop talking," He instructed me harshly. "There's no point. You can't do anything about it now."

A car drove by on the street, but didn't notice or even stop. The quick light from the headlights, however, revealed the scene before me. The man was older and hard looking. There was no smile or malice in his face. He looked almost sad. His hand, gripping Jazz painfully, was scarred and ugly. A familiar tattoo marked his face.

"Grant Audley," The name slipped from my lips with the tone of sadness. He truly was a desperate man.

"How do you know my name?" He shoved the gun closer to me, the metal inches from my face. I felt the urge to run, but my body wouldn't move. "Answer me."

"I-I," I stumbled horribly over my words, all the bravery I once held gone. He didn't know who I was, so he hadn't originally planned on hurting me. I didn't need him to figure out I was considerably valuable to kill. "I just saw your tattoo. I only assumed…"

"Well just keep quiet you stupid bitch," He scoffed and waved the gun at me. "Get against the wall and keep your mouth shut. I don't need some girl standing and gaping at me like a half-wit. Don't try anything stupid, either, 'cause I can kill you slowly. You don't want to get me mad."

I said nothing, my eyes trailing down to meet Jazz's big brown orbs. She was shaking slightly, her small body going through tremors. Her head was barely the height of his hip, and she seemed so small and hopeless in that instant that I realized how young she truly was. How alone and scared she must have felt.

"_Move_," Grant Audley snapped and suddenly the gun connected with my temple, sending me stumbling. It wasn't a solid hit, since it didn't knock me out, but still my vision swam and the damp asphalt ground blurred. Jazz let out a soft sound, but thankfully she knew better than to scream. She watched as I managed to back myself to the wall and lean against it as my knees buckled.

"What now?" I asked, my voice braver than before. The hit must've knocked some of the fear from me. "Someone will hear you if you shoot us."

He ignored me and spun Jazz around in his grip. The small girl barely managed to stay standing as she was gripped around the neck. He shoved the gun behind her body, pushing it at the base of her skull. His finger was tensed on the trigger and I knew in an instant one shot would be the end of the child.

"Please," I begged, my voice sounding too loud in my ears and I felt as if my heart was about to break through my chest. "Please don't kill her. She didn't do anything wrong. She's just a kid. Please, you can't blame her."

"I'm not the reason she's dying here tonight," Grant Audley didn't sound mad. He sounded tired, and I saw no life in his eyes. "If you want to blame someone, blame her brother. He's the dick that's getting you both killed tonight. Him and his gang are to blame for this."

"My brother isn't bad," Jazz's voice was brave. Much too brave someone so young. Her dark brown eyes were glaring up at the man gripping her. Her breathing was labored due to his thumb pressing against her wind pipe. But her voice was somehow steady. "You're bad. Bad men hurt girls."

Grant Audley was watching her, his eyes almost pained. "Yes dear, I am a bad man," His voice was gentle, saddened, regretful. He loosened his hold on her throat, but I noticed his handle on the gun tighten. He was about to shoot. "And I'm sorry you had to die this way."

"Stop!" I yelled, my voice broken.

I didn't know what else to do but throw my body at him. It was too late to do anything else and I had to try and stop him. With pumping adrenaline I moved towards him. He hadn't been expecting my move and as our bodies collided the gun fired and someone screamed. We both fell to the ground, his body beneath mine and one of my arms getting trapped beneath us both. The gravel tore at my skin but the bone didn't break.

I heard the gun hit the ground and slide away from us. I refused to look for Jazz, terrified of what I'd see if I did.

"Shit," The man below me breathed out. He seemed to gain his bearings again and he promptly pushed me off him. I rolled against the ground before lunging up and trying to get to him again. I pulled at his neck, my fingernails biting into his skin and he grunted in pain. I held on tighter, refusing to let him get to the gun.

"Stop it," I cried as he grabbed my hair and yanked me away from him. "Stop!"

"Stupid girl," He sneered before swiftly tossing me aside. My body collided with the wall, the bricks scratching my face. Pain shot through my spine as my head bounced against the stone. My temple was still pounding from the earlier hit form the gun. "Look what you've done."

I managed to turn and open my eyes. I saw Jazz in a heap in the middle of the alley and for a single, terrifying moment I thought she was dead. I was sure she had been shot and I had been too late. But then I heard the low moan of her sobbing. She was on her knees, her hair covering her face and her hands bracing herself against the ground as she leaned forward. Blood was dripping onto the pavement.

"She's hurt," I said dazedly, my head was swimming with shock and pain and fear. Grant Audley was now looming over her. Blood still dripped against the pavement.

"The bullet hit her shoulder," The man frowned. "Now she's in pain because of you. If you would've just let me shoot her, she wouldn't have felt a thing. Now she's suffering."

I felt guilt and fear choke me. I watched in a stunned silence as Grant Audley reached down and grabbed the small child by the hair and yank her back to her feet. I couldn't see her face, but I heard her cries get louder. She was shaking even harder than before, and I watched the blood stain her thick, white coat.

Something in me snapped. The sight of her blood and the image of him standing over her made my fists clench. He wasn't going to kill her. I wasn't going to let him. I was strong enough to save her. I wasn't going to let her die. She didn't deserve to die like this. Not so young and not for nothing. No one deserved this. Especially not someone as innocent as her.

"Stop hurting her," I demanded, pushing myself off the wall and taking a step towards the man. He didn't heed my warning, and instead he simply gripped Jazz by the throat again, this time with a solid grip I knew was going to kill her. She just kept crying. "Stop hurting her, it's me you want to kill."

Slowly the man looked over at me, his grip still tight and I heard Jazz gasp desperately for air.

"What do you mean?" He asked, confused and annoyed and so very tired.

"I'm the one you want to kill," I repeated. "I stole the car. I started this. I'm the reason you have to do all of this." I stepped closer again. "So please, just kill me. Leave her. She didn't do anything. It was all me."

I watched him struggle with himself as he took in this new information. I held my breath in hopes he'd let her go. He could shoot me, stab me, I didn't care. I wasn't going to let Jazz get hurt.

"It doesn't matter," He said at last. "This would have happened even if you never came along. Besides…you'll be joining her soon anyway." He looked back away from me and towards Jazz, who was now beginning to squirm and move in pain. It was twisted, seeing a kid getting hurt.

I took another step and my foot landed on something. I looked down to see the forgotten gun. Without hesitation I bent and grabbed for it. This time when Grant Audley noticed me, he instantly let go of the girl, letting her fall back to the ground like a discarded garment.

"Get away!" I yelled at him.

"Put that down," He stepped threateningly towards me.

"No! Leave!" I shouted back, my hands steadily holding the gun up to point at him. He stepped even closer and I stood my ground. "Get out of here!"

"She's going to die," He said softly. "She's dying slowly and she's in pain. Give me the gun and I'll finish her quickly. Don't you want her to stop hurting?"

"Stop talking," I ordered, my finger tensing unconsciously on the smooth trigger. "Stop trying to scare me."

"What are you going to do, shoot me?" He frowned, his eyes sad. "If you do that, every member of my gang will be at your throat. No matter where you run, they'll find you. They'll hunt you down, find your family, and kill your little boyfriend. No matter what you do, they'll make you suffer." He shook his head. "Don't you see? None of us can get out of this. None of us can ever leave this behind."

He stepped closer to me and I lifted the gun so that it was aimed between his eyes. In the background I could hear Jazz's labored breathing and soft cries. I knew she was dying. I knew I'd have to move fast in order to save her. She wasn't going to last long, and I was her only hope.

"You're wrong," I shook my head. "I'm not like you. I can get past this."

"And what about Butch?" He asked, stepping closer again. "He'll die on the streets. His type always does."

I said nothing, merely stepped back a step.

"Give me the gun, girl," He command, his years as leader boiling at the surface of his temper. "Give it to me, and I can end it all. She won't have to hurt, and you won't ever have to see your man die. Everything gets better with death. So please, just hand it over and make my night easier. Make everything easier."

"No!" Jazz suddenly screamed from somewhere behind Grant. We both startled at the sound of her voice and Grant looked over his shoulder in mild confusion. "Don't do it!"

I used the distraction while I could and with as much force as I could muster I slammed the butt of the gun against the base of Grant's skull. His figure tensed up, his joints locking and his body tilting. He began to slump unconsciously to the ground but I didn't even wait for his body to hit before I dodged around him.

"Jazz," I said with panic as I kneeled by her. She was crying and shaking and holding her shoulder. Blood was coating her small fingers and running down her clothes. Her round cheeks were ashen and her eyes were squeezed shut. "Oh god, honey, we got to get you out of here. Come on."

I dropped the gun and gathered her to me. She was small and I lifted her easily. Her faced pressed against my shoulder and she wrapped her arms around my neck, although she didn't have to strength to really grip me. I managed to stand with her and began walking as quickly away from the alley as I could, not taking a look back at the fallen man.

"My shoulder hurts really bad," She whimpered as I tried my best not to jolt her while I walked.

"I know," I murmured and rubbed soothing circles along her back. My chest was warm as blood seeped against it and I fought the urge to gag. My mind was turning fast and I knew I had to keep moving. "I'm going to get you some help, okay sweetie? We're not in danger anymore. That man is gone."

"What if he comes back?" She asked, her voice slow and quiet. I was nearing my apartment building, my eyes scanning around for a trace of someone that could help us.

"If he comes back I won't let him hurt you," I replied evenly. "I got you out last time, didn't I?"

"Yeah," She cried against me. "But I got hurt last time too."

"Sir!" I yelled as I saw a man step out of his car. It was still running and he frowned over at me as he saw me approach. "Sir, please, I need your help. I need to get this girl to a hospital immediately. I don't have a car and I need to take her _now_."

"Sorry lady," He shook his head. "I'm just dropping off this package. I ain't here to play the hero."

"But she's hurt and she needs medical attention," I pleaded, stepping into his path. I gripped Jazz tighter and felt tears well up in my eyes. "Please, I need you to drive us there. It won't take long. Please."

"I said no, lady," The man shoved past me, grumbling the whole way.

I took a large step back, my hold on Jazz tight. Her small body wasn't moving in my arms and I couldn't feel her tears. I shook her once and then twice before realizing she had passed out. With mounting panic I looked around again, desperate to help her. I _had_ to help her. We hadn't gotten away for nothing.

I turned and heard the hum of a motor. The man's car was still on, the door wide open and the key in the ignition. In his annoyance he'd forgotten to turn it off. I felt myself sigh out as I quickly walked towards it. I stepped down off the curb, a cold puddle soaking my feet and my body moving around the front of the car towards the driver's side.

"Hold on Jazz," I begged the girl as I slid her into the car and moved her to rest against the passenger's door. Her eyes were closed. Her cheeks and lips were pale. Her jet black hair was matted with blood and her clothes were ruined. The only sign that she was still living was the slight lift of her stomach as she breathed, and even that was growing steadily slower. I refused to let my eyes drift to her arm, knowing the shot had torn off a portion of her shoulder.

Without hesitation I plopped down into the driver's seat, my feet finding the pedals and my hand finding the gear shift. I buckled quickly and out of habit before slamming the door shut and throwing the car into drive. I tried to remain calm as I pushed the gas pedal down as hard as I could, jerking the wheel and pulling speedily away from the curb.

The tires screeched and the car lunged out into the road. I tried to ignore the way the small girl beside me was slowly growing more pallid. I tried to ignore the panic in my gut and the clench of fear in my chest. The man whose car I'd just stolen was yelling after me and screaming down the street as I sped off, but I did my best to ignore him too.

"I'm going to save you," I told Jazz, my voice braver and more assured than I actually felt. "I won't let you die."

'_Dear god, she has to be okay_,' I thought miserably. '_This can't happen_.'

I knew, however, that no matter what happened to Jazz, tonight was only the beginning. The Audley Boys were more than a threat now. They had hurt someone innocent and uninvolved with the gangs. They had crossed a line. And Ace was going to make them pay. Hell was in store for them all.

I swallowed thickly. Grant Audley had started something the moment he put a gun to Jazz's head. He had begun a war that would only end when blood coated the streets. Pain was eminent. Death was unavoidable. No one was going to leave untouched from this.

"Hold on Jazz," I whispered fearfully.

Tears streamed from my eyes as I drove. My arm bled slowly down my hand to coat the steering wheel. My head was pulsing and black dots rose in my vision. I could feel myself slowly growing dizzier with each turn I took. I couldn't stop the tears from falling and my ears from ringing with pain.

Fate had won. I had challenged it, and it had won. Butch had been right. Neither of us would ever be able to change our luck. Our kiss had been the trigger. My pain had confirmed the process. We had started something, just as Grant had. We had pushed ourselves, and everyone else, to the beginning of the end.

----

_Aahh, the night is calling  
And it whispers to me softly, "come and play"  
Aahh, I am falling  
And if I let myself go, I'm the only one to blame  
_

---

**8-16-08. Hmm…125 days. Has it really been that long? Seriously? Heh. I could give my excuses, but I'll spare you. Instead I'll just apologize for the wait, because truly I am very sorry for keeping you so long. **

**So, in light of the wait, I hope the chapter was good. It's long (to make up for it a little, I hope) and different. I don't think I could have moved forward anymore without Butch admitting **_**some**_** feelings for Bubbles…even if he really didn't want to. **

**So please tell me what you think, but be kind because I really did try. Really hard. **

**Thank you so much to everyone who stayed with me. I know it must've felt a little hopeless. I don't ever intend to make you wait as long again. I promise. I do still like this story a lot and don't intend to leave it. So enjoy the rest of you weekend, and I truly hope you liked the new addition.**


	17. Empty Apartment

_Waking up from this nightmare  
How's your life, what's it like there?  
Is it all what you want it to be?  
Does it hurt when you think about me?_

---

I stood in the hospital room, my eyes trained on the blonde girl lying on the bed before me. The girl I was supposed to be protecting. _My_ girl. My responsibility. And now here she was underneath the blinding fluorescent lights, sleeping in a stiff bed, clothed in a cheap hospital gown, and I had done nothing to prevent it.

Someone had hurt her, touched her, _bruised_ her.

I would make them pay for that. I would take her vengeance out in their blood.

Rage heated my blood and left a foul taste in my mouth. I tried to reel it in. I tried to hold it back. My face, a mask of indifference, was aching to scowl or snarl or move but I kept it in check. My fist, clenched tightly at my side, was the only testament to what I felt inside. I prayed my restraint would hold up a bit longer.

Bubbles let out a breath in her sleep and the sound managed to distract me a little and I let my eyes fall onto her slightly parted lips. Her breathing was sharp and the corners of her mouth were pulled down. A nightmare, I realized with a bit of distant annoyance. She always had nightmares.

My eyes moved to rove over her face. A blue/purple bruise was darkening and swelling along the side of her face. It was most profound around her temple and I knew she'd been struck there. Some scratches lined her nose and cheek. A particularly long but shallow scrape ran down her jaw and neck. Her left arm was in a bandage and I could see a dark, rusted blood stain the fabric.

I could live until I was five-hundred and I don't think I could ever forget the way the bruises looked against her smooth, clear skin. The image was burned into my mind and I felt sick.

"She's beat up pretty bad, huh?" I felt Boomer move to my side. He'd been sitting in one of the cheap chairs in the corner, feeling awkward and shifting nervously since I'd gotten there. I hadn't spoken to him and still didn't feel much need.

I felt too angry to talk. Angry and tired.

I should have seen this coming. Long ago. The fact that I hadn't prepared for it spoke volumes. I'd gotten weak. Soft. And I'd been stupid and careless. It'd been a mistake. All of it. Getting close to the girl lying before me had been one of the worst things I could have done. A mistake I couldn't change and wouldn't do again.

But it was done. And I couldn't back out now.

It was too late to regret things and I wasn't going feel guilty. I had warned her. I _had._ I had told her it'd be dangerous. I'd told her no good would come from liking me and still she'd insisted. She'd told me it'd be okay. And I let her believe it might be. I'd let her think it could change.

Stupid fuck that I was, I'd actually thought it could as well. I had let myself think I could be with her without her getting hurt. I should've known. Life isn't easy, good things just don't happen. I wasn't supposed to be happy, and I should have remembered that. I'd forgotten that for a second, but I'd never forget that again.

There are always consequences for forgetting.

"Jazz is worse," Boomer muttered, trying to fill the silence in that nervous way he had. Bubbles did it when she was nervous too. Only she always aimed to make me laugh or pay attention to her. She didn't like the sound of her voice as much as Boomer liked the sound of his own damn mouth as it ran on. She always aimed to get me to look at her. She should have been smarter. She shouldn't have wanted me so badly. She shouldn't have wanted me at all. "Jazz is really bad man. I don't know if she's going to make it."

"If she dies, we'll know," I said plainly, my own voice sounding so far off and calm that it actually startled me. Had I ever sounded so detached before? Had I ever been so angry?

I was so twisted up in my own mind that I could hardly hear Boomer talk. My own pulse was beating too loudly, my own mind raging through its emotions. Emotions weren't good. They weren't safe. Being cold was safe. Being cold kept me alive so far.

"Ace is going to kill someone," Boomer was running his hand through his dark blonde hair and I wanted to hurt him. Couldn't he just shut up or leave?

"It won't be the first time," I told him impatiently and he looked down at the ground.

'_Grow-up, Boomer!_' I wanted to yell at him. '_Grow the fuck up! This isn't fun and games. This is life and life is cruel and unjust and filled with death and pain._'

He didn't understand that. Neither had she. She would now.

"I was checking on a few fronts earlier today, you know, making sure they didn't know anything about the Audley Boys that we didn't. Ace told me to check our loyalties, make sure we still have suppliers and confidents. And…and that's when I'd got the call…" He looked over at me as he trailed off. "I came to the hospital right away. Ace was already here."

_Quit talking, quit talking, quit talking_…

"I thought about going and sitting with Jazz, but Ace was so mad I was afraid to go near him. I mean, I was actually scared of Ace, man. So I figured I'd just sit down here with Bubbles, but she went to sleep right before I could even pull up a chair." He frowned.

I scowled over at the blonde girl sleeping. I really should wake her up. I needed to. But I could feel Boomer watching me, waiting for some kind of hint or sign of what to do. He was trying to see how I'd react to all of this. Was I weak? The question was in his eyes—and dammit, he could hardly even look at me.

My own brother saw that I'd let my guard slip. He saw I'd let this go too far.

"Go find Brick," I told him with the calm, demanding air of authority I normally had. At least I hoped it came out that way. I was so coiled with anger inside that I could barely unclench my jaw enough to talk.

"But…" He began to protest. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to know the plan. Weren't we going to go fight? Wasn't I going to yell? Get mad? Get furious? He didn't know how to take this reaction from me. He didn't know why I hadn't snapped like Ace had only moments ago.

But Boomer didn't see. I was just like Ace.

He didn't understand how I was one step away from blowing his fucking brains out just for being near me at the wrong moment.

He didn't get how fucking mad I was.

He didn't get how tired I was.

How tired I was of this hospital, this conversation, this situation, this damn girl in front of me. I was so sick and tired of feeling like I was responsible for this pain around me. For her pain. I shouldn't care. I should take joy from it. I'd never been bothered by fights and fatalities before. But now I was mad.

Now I was involved.

I'd let her get under my skin, and now I was paying for it and so was she. And worst of all, I'd been rolled. I'd let my practiced and permanent sense of control slip for one minute—and I'd been screwed for it. I knew I shouldn't have gotten close.

I looked over her bruised face and felt like yelling.

Getting close is dangerous. It makes ties you down. It gives you something to protect—something to loose. And now I'd been taunted, challenged, and angered by a man too cowardly to find me. No, he went and found _her_. And I couldn't ignore it. I should go into this fight with a level head and calm manner like normal, but I couldn't.

Not with her hurt.

Not when I should have protected her.

"_Now_," I told Boomer urgently, my voice rough. "Get him now."

Boomer left wordlessly, but the look in his eyes said plenty. What had I become? Wasn't I his brother? Wasn't I the one that kept everything in perspective? Had I really let myself get attached to a girl? Had I really let us all become vulnerable and angry?

Once Boomer was gone I let myself step closer to her bed. I sighed and reached out to touch her again. My hand gently shook her shoulder, mindful of the injuries I could see. My stomach twisted at the thought of hurting her any more than she already was. Although I wanted to strangle her for getting hurt in the first place, I literally felt ill at the sight of all her bruises.

"Mnh?" She asked groggily as she slowly began to stir.

"Get up," I muttered, letting go of her small shoulder and pulling my hand back away. "We have to talk."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," She tried to smile, but only ended up wincing and touching her head with the tips of her fingers. It must be killing her and I briefly wondered why the nurses hadn't given her any medicine for the pain. She didn't even have an IV or anything. Weren't those supposed to be standard or something?

"Grant Audley did this," I said calmly as I looked over the ugly bruises that coated her pale skin. It wasn't really a question, but she managed to nod anyway. Her blonde hair was spilled out around her on the pillow. Her light blue eyes were focusing slowly on me. A sort of nervousness ran across her face.

The look in my eyes must have terrified her.

"B-Butch," She stuttered before moving her elbows to help herself sit. She moved slowly, gingerly so as not to make her head spin. I refused to reach out and help her sit, now matter how much I had the impulse to do just that. I couldn't let myself help her. I couldn't let myself get soft.

Getting soft gets you killed. Getting soft almost got _her _killed.

"What happened?" I demanded, my eyes narrowing at her. I felt the anger (the dark, twisting, ominous anger) building up within me and making my throat tighten. I felt my body begin to betray me. I needed to fight someone. I wanted to hurt someone.

Bubbles was quiet for a moment as she watched me. She was sitting, breathing slightly harder at the effort she had used. Her sickly pale and bruised skin shined beneath the fluorescent hospital lighting. "I can't tell you," She said at last, her tone timid and soft. So soft I almost didn't hear it.

_Almost_.

But I did hear it. And I wasn't exactly pleased.

"Why the fuck not?" I snapped at her, my voice rising slightly and my fists clenching at my sides.

She frowned at me. "Because," She said with some annoyance. "You're going to do something stupid, I can tell. The look on your face…it's scaring me."

I ignored the fact that I had scared her. I was too mad to care. What did she expect? I was the bad guy!

'_You're my hero, so deal with it…_' Her soft and slightly teasing voice haunted my memory. It reminded me of another day. She had been hurt then too.

I pushed that thought away fiercely.

"Do something stupid?" I repeated bitterly. "Stupid like walking into an alley in the middle of the night?" I practically growled, my calm slipping more than normal. All because of her. All because I'd fucking gotten involved. "Stupid like that, Bubbles? Because honestly, I can't think of anything more senseless than that."

_Except liking you_…

Insulted tears sprung to her eyes and made them glisten. Annoyance and slight bout of panic pegged at me at the sight of her tears and she bit her lip and tried to hold them back. I wouldn't let her sway me. I had to be cold. I had to be indifferent. Even to her. _Especially_ to her.

"Who told you?" She asked shakily, and I could tell she was on the verge of crying. A small part of me wondered how she hadn't cried yet. Normally a girl who got accosted in an alley would be a mess. It was a natural reaction. I couldn't tell if she was just being strong or trying to be brave for my sake.

"The nurses," I replied coolly. "They told me all about the spectacle you made—showing up here with blood everywhere and holding a dying kid in your arms. You told them you'd been mugged in an alley, although I doubt it happened exactly that way."

She had stopped paying attention to me earlier, however, and now her eyes were wider and she sat up straighter. "Jazz!" She said with a bit of mortification. "Oh my gosh! How is she? Is she okay? Is she alive? Is she going to make it? I was so scared…I—"

She suddenly bit her lip and her hands both flew to hold her stomach. I stepped closer to her, a knowing frown on my face. I'd had a few concussions before and I was willing to bet she had to throw up. There was a slightly green tint to her skin now and I could see her trying desperately not to get sick in front of me.

With gentleness that betrayed the rage of anger inside of me, I grabbed the crook of her undamaged arm and helped her from the bed. She slid out, her bare feet hitting the ground and her mind unaware of the hospital gown she'd changed into before I'd gotten there. With slow movements, so as not to make her get sick faster, we managed to get to the small bathroom attached to her room. There wasn't much time to spare either, because no sooner had we gotten in did she fall to her knees in front of the toilet and lurch.

I frowned and crouched down beside her. With careful movements I slid my jacket off and draped it over her back. The paper gown didn't offer much cover back there and I made sure to keep my eyes trained on my hands, oddly mindful of her modesty. After she was covered I was quick to pull her long tawny hair back behind her, not knowing how she'd possibly keep the flaxen strands back and out of the way without some help.

I felt strange in this foreign situation. I wasn't used to taking care of people and hadn't had someone take care of me since I was much younger. I remembered my mother's soothing presence when I had gotten sick as a kid and tried to replay her motions.

"It's okay," I told her softly and with some hesitation my free hand came up to rub circles against her small back. "It's only this bad the first few days. Your head will stop spinning soon."

She groaned and I bit back a smirk. My anger felt abated and patiently waiting in the pit of my stomach until she was ready to talk. A feeling, close to concern, kept me muttering low soothing comments to her. She was done in the matter of moments, her head still bowed and her hands shaking. The cold tiled floor made her shake harder.

"It's okay," I said again as I tried to get her to shift to the side. I looked around for a cup so that I could get her some water but couldn't see any.

I bit back a sigh.

"I'll go get a nurse," I warned her as I stood fluidly and stepped away from her side. I hated the idea of fetching a nurse. They'd already given me questioning looks when I'd gotten here. I didn't want to draw any more attention than necessary. But still…she looked so miserable and small as she was slouched and shaking that I couldn't just ignore her.

I could never ignore her. That was my problem.

"Wait," She grumbled unhappily. "You didn't answer my question about Jazz." I still couldn't see her face but I knew she was frowning and possibly crying if the hitch in her voice was any indication. I heard her sniff.

Yeah, she was definitely crying and I felt annoyed with her again. Couldn't she just let me be mad at her?

"She's alive," I said simply, my body shifting restlessly as I stood in the doorway. In all honesty I didn't know if Jazz was alive or not. I hadn't gone to see her. I hadn't left Bubbles' side since I'd gotten there, not even to talk to Ace. But I wasn't about to tell her that.

"Good," Bubbles whispered tiredly and I hoped she didn't fall back asleep and drown in the toilet while I was gone. "Good."

I quickly backed out of the bathroom and out into the hall. Nurses and doctors were walking busily by me. I waited a moment before grabbing a particularly old nurse by the elbow and making her stop. She appraised me in a second and scowled, already not trusting me.

"My sister is sick," I told her smoothly, calmly. It was the same lie I had to tell the lady at the front desk in order for her to let me visit Bubbles. Boomer had said the same thing when he'd gotten there prior to me, but with his looks they had believed him easier than they had believed me. "I think she has a really bad concussion."

The nurse sighed but swept past me and into Bubbles' room. I was quick on her heels and followed her as she grabbed Bubbles' chart and walked into the bathroom. Bubbles had moved from where I left her and now she was leaning against the wall, but somehow standing. She'd managed to slip her arms into my jacket as well and she had pulled it tightly around her. It was too big on her and only the tip of the paper gown showed at the bottom.

"Bubbles Sawyer?" The nurse asked her in a practiced calming tone. I froze at the name the nurse read off the chart and I watched as heat pooled in the blonde's cheeks before me. Her light blue eyes widened but wouldn't meet my own.

"Um, yeah, that's me," Bubbles' weak voice mumbled with no small amount of embarrassment.

"Yes, it says here that you have a mild concussion and to me it looks like you have a few scrapes and bumps as well." The nurse frowned softly at the young blonde. "Mugged?" She clicked her tongue a bit. "It's such as sad thing when young girls can't even walk the streets without getting hurt." She turned to me and began to push me out of the bathroom with wide shooing motions. "Now, out with you. I need to get her cleaned up and a drink of water before she can come back out to lie down. We don't need an audience."

I left before she could tell me again. The door shut behind me and it was like a trigger went off within me. The anger that had been temporarily stifled suddenly tore through me with a vengeance. I began to pace the small hospital room, my body restless with dark anger.

I could hear the nurse and Bubbles' muffled talking behind the door and I clenched my fists.I had to talk to her too. Question her. I had to know what had happened. Even though it probably made no difference, for some reason I had to know. I needed to take the weight of it off her. She shouldn't be keeping this to herself. I had to shoulder what pain she had had received.

My guilt was alarming.

"I'm going to kill him," I muttered darkly to no one. To myself, maybe. It was a promise. "I'm going to kill him." I repeated, liking the sound of it more than I thought I would. More than I thought I _should_.

"Killing him won't stop this fight," Brick's voice rang clear and familiar through the air. "The attacks won't stop happening if Grant Audley dies."

I turned to see him at the door, Boomer right behind him. Brick's red eyes were gauging my mood. He was used to me and how I worked. He'd always been able to know when I was about to snap, ever since we were kids. He was quick that way. A natural leader.

"Sit down Butch," He told me sternly, his eyes suddenly narrowed.

It was like they all could see my anger on my face. Him, Bubbles, Boomer. They all could see how closer I was to the edge of my reason. How close I was to storming out of the hospital without a plan or a care about what my actions would do. Even if I wasn't tied down by laws, I'd always had to keep my brother's welfare in mind. But for the first time I didn't care what my choice would entail for them, I just wanted to blow Grant Audley's head off his fucking shoulders.

"He has to die," I said icily, my jaw clenching and unclenching.

"Sit down," Brick said with more menace. Boomer shifted anxiously behind him.

"No," I snapped harshly. "I don't wan to sit. I don't want to talk. I just-"

"Just what?" Brick walked towards me so fast I impulsively stepped back before stopping and standing my ground. He got up close enough to stare me flat in the eyes. "You want to go off and make even more trouble for us? You want us to appear even weaker than we already do?"

I narrowed my eyes as I heard the truth. I had made us appear weak. I had let myself get caught up and vulnerable to an attack.

"I won't let him get away with what he did to her," My voice was a rasp. "Standing back will make us look weak."

"Sit down and think for a second," Brick ordered. "Now."

I walked away from him, pacing again. I balled my fists together, swore lowly, and fought the mounting urge to punch my brothers. I felt too uncontrolled. Too easily read. I wasn't used to people knowing what I felt. I needed my calm again. Needed the icy demeanor I always had.

But I was too angry to manage it.

"Butch," Boomer spoke this time. "Please, just chill out man. You have to sit and calm down. We have to plan this out."

"Shut up Boomer," I said through gritted teeth. "Just fuck off."

"Hey!" Brick barked at me and I looked warily over at him. "Don't get mad at him for thinking straight when you can't. Now we aren't going to let you leave here without some sort of plan, so you can either sit down or Boomer and I can make you sit. It's your choice."

I glared at him, willing him to just leave me alone for God's sake! Couldn't they tell I was pissed? Couldn't they let me be?

With angered movements I threw myself into a chair in the corner. It was uncomfortable and old and I crossed my arms sourly. Like a kid, I thought with a bit of irritation. I was acting like an angry child. Both Boomer and Brick watched me for a moment before drawing nearer. Brick stretched his hand out and I looked at it with exasperation. Finally I gave in and reached into my pocket and pulled out my gun. Brick took it and quickly shoved it into the inside pocket of his leather jacket.

"Now that you're unarmed…" Brick began sarcastically before giving me his damned smile. "How about we start thinking logically?"

"He's going to die," I said with conviction. "Whether it's tonight or tomorrow or next week…Grant Audley is going to die and I'm going to kill him. Don't kid yourself into thinking you can change my mind."

"He hurt her," Brick said with a colder look in his eyes but his smile still remaining. "Boomer told me he hurt her, and I'm sorry."

"This isn't about her," I insisted.

"Of course it is," Brick rolled his eyes. "You like the broad and now someone's fucked with her. Now you want to kill him and get her revenge. It's not rocket science, in fact it's quite simple. Don't act like it isn't like that."

"This is about pride," I leaned back, slumping down and glaring up at him. "Grant Audley dared to mess with us and he must pay. I mean, he had me jumped at a bar and cut up for christ's sake! Don't forget about that." My hand unconsciously touched the scar on my cheek before balling back into a tight fist.

"We have to be calm and rational," Brick said in reply. "We can't run into this like kids. We gained the power over weapon trade, illegal fights, and all the other shit going down in the underground. We get that money. We get that respect. We're not going to throw it away for a quick scrap with an old man past his prime." Brick crossed his arms. "We have bigger problems than him."

"Like what?" I asked, suddenly more attentive.

"The warehouse where we've been storing the ammunition we just got shipped in was raided and burned down tonight," Brick leaned back against the edge of the hospital bed, his tone quieter. "That's the stuff we've shipped in for us and a few other buyers around the south harbor. It's all gone as well as some of the people we hired to watch over it."

"Do you think they were in on it?" I questioned with a frown, my voice lower.

"No," He shook his head. "I think they were paid to walk away and keep their mouths shut."

"Did they?" I raised an eyebrow.

"No," He smiled. "They all talked the moment I found them."

"What'd they say? Was it the Audley Boys that paid them off?" I tried to run through all the different types of ammo we'd had brought in. My mind remembered at least nine different types. That wasn't too big of a shipment.

"They think so," Brick suddenly looked like he had much more he wanted to say but he stopped talking and I scowled.

"Besides the money we lost from the trade, how is this that bad?" I looked form Brick to Boomer. "It's not like we had a business going on inside or anyone got killed. We can just pop these guys too."

"There's something else," Boomer was linking his thumbs through his belt loops, his too-long hair falling into his face. "There are some cops snooping around the place now. They didn't think it was just a warehouse fire. They have it down as arson and now they're looking into it."

"Fuck," I said after a moment. I rubbed at my temples, feeling a headache coming on. "Did we have anything in there that could link the fire to us or lead them to think we're up to anything?"

"The cops always think we're up to something," Brick shook his head. "They're already going to pin it to us because we're the most likely cause for anything that goes down in our territory. They're going to start asking questions."

"Why would we burn down our own warehouse?" I asked with a bit of irritation.

"To destroy evidence?" Brick shrugged. "Who knows? The thing is, if they catch any word of the weapon smuggling we've been running, they'll be able to drag us all in. And after that they'll start getting more clues and connecting more dots. Soon they'll also be able to pin us with extortion, assault, drug trafficking, burglary and theft, auto theft, vandalism…need I go on?"

"We've been careful," I said lowly. "We've kept no papers, researched all our sources, and kept our distribution minimally to the people in our territory. They won't have enough evidence to pin it on us. They'll only have hints and suggestions."

"Fuck that, they're cops, they can do what they want," Brick sneered. "We're the bad guys, remember? We're going to get locked up if anyone talks."

'_You're my hero, so deal with it_,' the words floated across my subconscious again and I frowned. The words seemed so childish in the wake of what I really was. A hero? What would she do if she heard what I really was? Did she understand?

I gritted my teeth. I had to stop thinking of her. I had more important things to think about. If anything got out to the police, soon more people would start talking. If too much came out, things like how we managed to rise so quickly to the top, they could pin about half of the guys for murder and the other half for being an accomplice. This would be life sentences. I'd been to prison before, but the longest was six months with early parole. Most of my times were just in jail for a few weeks. Even though prison didn't scare me, it didn't exactly appeal to me either.

With all of us in prison, there'd be no one to run our operations. We'd fall.

"What did Ace say about this?" I asked after a moment.

"He doesn't know yet," Boomer answered. "He was too upset about Jazz. He wouldn't listen to us. That's the other problem…"

"What? Ace?" I sighed.

"We don't know where he is," Brick shrugged. "After Bubbles had the hospital call all of us I got the call about the warehouse and went to check it out. I came down here to warn Ace afterwards, but he had already bolted. He didn't want to talk about anything. I don't even know if Jazz is alright."

I knew where Ace was. He was out looking for Grant Audley, just like I'd wanted to do. Nothing could save Grant Audley if he was found either.

"Okay, here's the plan," I began as I leaned forward. "Brick, you go after Ace. Find him and calm him down. Convince him to wait for a planned attack. Tell him that it'll be better that way. Boomer, you call the Gang Greene Gang and tell Grubber to stake out the warehouse and give us word if the police look like they found something. Tell the rest of them to get word out that the police are in the mix now. Make sure people know to keep their mouth shut if they want to keep breathing. I'll go check in the Audley territory and see what's going on."

"What do I do after that?" Boomer asked.

"Stay with Jazz," Brick said with a frown. "God willing, she's still alive. Make sure you keep us updated on her condition and tell us if the doctors get her stabilized. Ace will want to know what's going on if I can calm him down long enough to think."

"You want me to stay here?" Boomer complained with a scowl.

"Stay here and don't bitch about it," I snapped at him.

Brick opened his mouth to say something when the door to the bathroom suddenly opened up. We all fell silent as the older nurse and Bubbles walked back into the room. The nurse pursed her lips at the sight of us three, her dark eyes disapproving of our looks. Bubbles merely smiled slightly.

"Excuse me," The nurse's voice was sharp. "You'll have to leave. This isn't a lounge, this is a hospital. Mrs. Sawyer needs her rest and that'll be hard if she has three hoodlums crowding her space. Now disperse, please."

"'Mrs. Sawyer'?" Boomer snickered under his breath before nudging me hard with his elbow. "Did you get hitched and not tell us there Butch?"

"Fuck off," I said darkly but my eyes were trained on the blonde girl that looked as if she wanted to melt into the ground. Her face was red with embarrassment and her eyes were glued to the wall with great interest.

"I thought you said you were her brother," The nurse was frowning at me. Then she turned to Bubbles and stared at her with a searching look. "Who are these men Mrs. Sawyer? Should I ask them to leave or do I need to call the security desk?"

"Um," Bubbles blushed a deeper red, which I hadn't thought was possible, and managed to look completely miserable. "No, they can stay."

Boomer snickered again before moving towards the door anyway. He turned and winked at me before darting out the door and towards the pay phones. I could see Brick shaking his head through the corner of my eye as I glanced back over at Bubbles. She was frowning softly and her light blue eyes were watching me closely. She looked away as our eyes met.

"Push that button if you need some assistance," The nurse waved to a button near the bed before patting Bubbles on the shoulder. "Now sit down and rest, but don't go to sleep, alright?"

"Alright," Bubbles' light voice was quick to comply. She sat down on the bed, Brick moving quickly out of her way.

The nurse rearranged a few things before exiting the room. I watched her go before standing up myself. Bubbles was still watching me as if waiting. Her hands, placed together in her lap, were picking at the edge of the paper gown as her teeth chewed her bottom lip.

She looked like a nervous kid.

"Are you feeling okay?" Brick was the first to break the thick silence. Down to business like always. I was normally like that too, but I felt as if there were something wrong with me. My head was pounding, my bad temper was worsening, and every time I closed my eyes I saw the bruises on Bubbles' skin and it made me sick.

"Yes, thank you," Bubbles gave him a small smile.

"Grant Audley did this, didn't he?" Brick stared into her eyes to keep her attention.

Bubbles let out an agitated sigh. "Yes, it was him. How do you two know that?" She glanced over to where I was standing. Our eyes met and she frowned.

"It's a logical guess," Brick rubbed his chin in a distracted manner. "Now did he say anything when he was…"

"Holding a gun to my face?" Bubbles ducked her head but her tone was sharp. Her own anger fueled mine. "No, nothing important. Why? Does it matter?"

Brick looked over at me and motioned for me to go out into the hall. I stood still. I wouldn't leave her alone with him. He'd never hurt her, but still I wouldn't leave. Brick realized my resistance and narrowed his red eyes with annoyance. He called the shots. I was supposed to listen.

"Butch, can we talk in the hall?" Brick's tone was friendly. Calm.

He didn't fool me.

"Fine," I muttered before moving to follow him out of the room. As I passed Bubbles I paused. She looked expectantly up at me and I just sighed and grabbed the lapel of my jacket. "Stay here." I said while pulling it further around her. "I'll be right back."

She said nothing and I walked away.

---

Once out in the hall Brick turned to face me. Doctors and nurses walked by us, as well as a few patients, but none took much notice. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited for Brick to start. He had a decided look on his face and I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

It's just sad that it had to come to this.

"What do you think you're doing?" Brick said in a low voice. His red eyes were locked with mine.

"Stepping out into the hall," I bit out sarcastically.

Before I knew it Brick had me pushed up against the wall. My back hit hard and my head bounced off the stark white plaster. His elbow, which was digging into my chest, kept me pinned and his free hand was holding my right arm which I'd risen in automatic defense.

"Cut the crap," Brick breathed angrily. I glared at him and gave him a bitter smile.

"Back off," I rumbled lowly but he only pushed me harder. A bruise was already forming where his elbow kept driving into my skin. A patient gaped at us before quickly moving further away.

"We have bigger issues here than your damn temper, so shut up and listen to me," Brick shoved me one more time before stepping back. I straightened up and glared stoically at him. "I don't usually ask you anything about your personal life, but I feel like I have no other option. So you can either tell me what's up with you and this girl or-"

"She doesn't have anything to do with what's going on," I cut him off coldly. "Leave her out of it."

"She was attacked so that makes her involved," Brick snapped. "Now tell me, does she know who we are? Does she understand what we do?"

"No more than necessary," I frowned. "She doesn't know the extent of this. She just thinks we're a petty gang who's in a fight. She doesn't know anything about our operations."

"Are you sure?" Brick raised and eyebrow. "You seem to be close to her. How has she not questioned why you're always gone? Hasn't she wondered why the Audley Boys want you dead so badly?"

"No," I pinched the bridge of my nose with irritation. My nose had been broken several times—six I think, and never was quite straight. I wondered how it'd look it I'd never been in a fight. Normal? "She thinks I'm always at work. I meet with backers and customers and business owners during work hours. I just tell her I'm at the auto shop. She doesn't think to question me and I don't aim to tell her."

"And the Audley Boys?" He pressed.

"She just thinks they're mad because I stole their car," I said tonelessly. In truth she had kind of hinted that she was suspecting more, but she'd never questioned me about it. "Trust me, she's in the dark about this. I won't let her get in the way."

But we both knew the truth. It'd only be a matter of time before she found out. That's what happens when you let someone get close. They don't just learn about the good stuff, they learn the bad stuff too. And in my situation, the bad stuff could have me sent to prison for a good portion of my life.

"I won't let her get in the way," I repeated.

"I think it's a little late for that," Brick looked at me expectantly.

I scowled and looked away from him. I didn't need him to tell me. I knew she had made me distracted. I should've been focused on the Audley Boys. I should have been focused on my brothers and my own wellbeing. Instead I was busy with her. Instead I had let those settle in the back of my mind.

I had acted dangerously. Foolishly.

"What should I do?" I asked in a cold, detached voice.

"I think you already know what you have to do," Brick's voice was laced with understanding. But he didn't understand. He couldn't. "You don't have too many options, Butch."

"I know," I closed my eyes for a second. I could see her sitting on the hospital bed like I'd found her. Bruised and bleeding. I could see the look of fear in her eyes when she say my own anger. I could see her anxious movements.

I opened my eyes and swallowed. My throat felt dry and my head pounded. I knew I had to get away from her. It was safer that way. I had a reputation. A position in the city. I had responsibilities and issues that were more pressing and fatal than a blonde little girl. It wasn't safe to forget my enemies.

And it wasn't safe for her. That was important. I didn't understand why, but that little fact seemed like the most important thing of all.

She was in danger. She could keep getting hurt. I thought I could protect her, but I couldn't. Sooner or later she would get killed by this war and I wasn't going to be able to handle that. It would just be better if she was gone.

"Do what's right," Brick said as he backed further away. "If anything, do what's right for her. She doesn't deserve to keep getting hurt. You can protect her. But only if you're smart enough to get her out."

But I didn't want her to go. And wasn't I allowed to be selfish?

"If you like her, you'll keep her safe," Brick said as he moved to leave. Off to take care of business, just as I should've been doing. "In the best way you can."

'_But I want her here_,' I felt the words churn within me but my pride stilled my tongue.

God, but I really did like that girl. Who knows why? She was annoying as hell. And talked way too much. But there was something I liked about her. Something I liked that other girls hadn't seemed to have. I liked the way she treated me. I like being around her.

But letting that continue was dangerous. I'd get over her. I'd find another girl. Numerous girls. She'd fade away from my mind. Eventually. But I may never be on top of the city again. I was a king on the streets. I ruled with my fists and gun. I wasn't going to let that go. Especially not for a girl.

Even if I did like her.

---

"What's going on?" Bubbles asked as I walked back into the room a few minutes later. I felt distant, almost detached from myself as her big blue eyes searched my face. Thankfully my usual mask of indifference was back and she found nothing but icy calm.

"Grant Audley did this to you, right?" I asked, standing a good distance from her. I felt edgy again. Angry and frustrated. But I did my best to ignore it all. Anger could come later. It would. But not now. Not with her.

"Can we just not talk about it?" She muttered as her small fingers tucked a blonde strand of hair back behind her ear.

"No, we're talking about it," I said defiantly. "Now, what did he say?"

"He said…" She frowned and looked away. "I don't know. I can't remember it all."

"Betty, come on," I urged with little patience. My fingers were itching to ball into a fist. "What did he say? What happened?"

"He came out of nowhere," Bubbles looked at me suddenly, her voice angry. "I just turned the corner and there he was. He was holding a gun to Jazz's head and he made me stand against the wall. He told Jazz that it was all Ace's fault or something like that. And then…I don't know. He was going to kill her. I had to stop him. I had to save her…"

She bit off her words and balled her hands into tight fists. I could feel myself doing the same, my whole body rigid. I expected her to cry but instead she just breathed in angrily. Her eyes shown with frustrated tears but she held them back. Her pale cheeks were flushed with fear and anger and I watched her with an almost distant amazement.

"I knocked him away, but he shot her anyway," She was glaring at me now. "I couldn't save her. I felt so guilty. I felt so _responsible_. But do you know what he said later? Can you guess?"

I said nothing, just waited for her to continue.

"He said that it didn't matter. Me coming here and stealing the car and seeing those fights…that didn't matter," She pursed her lips. "He said it would have happened regardless."

It would have. They would have found a reason to try and take us down. If it was them on top, we would have done the same thing.

That thought made my stomach twist.

We would have done the same thing. Ace, Brick, Boomer…we all would have done what it took to make it to the top. We all were striving for the same goal. Nothing else seemed important. Power was the only thing important in life. And you have to do what it takes to achieve power, right?

"What's going on Butch?" Bubbles was still watching me. Waiting. "If I didn't help start this, what did? I don't get it."

Nothing started it. It was simply inevitable. We were bad people and we did bad things. It was common. It was life. I never knew anything different and I wasn't expecting a change. The powerful survived and the weak were left struggling to live. That's how it goes.

I looked over her and realized how small she really was. Small and hurt and completely innocent to the world. I thought she was beginning to learn how life in the bad part of town worked, but I recognized that she never could. She was too good. She'd never understand how evil people thought. She'd never understand how _I_ thought and acted.

But still…a part me wanted to believe that she understood me. Somehow I thought she did. At least more then most people.

It was a slim, pointless hope but I held to it. Some things were just meant to be kept.

"Butch?" She urged, her anger quickly disappearing only to be replaced by worry.

"Don't worry about it," I told her plainly. I wished I could explain things to her. Tell her it really wasn't her fault. Tell her I was much more dangerous and powerful than she'd ever guess and it wasn't her fault I'd gotten her hurt. But I knew I couldn't say anything. I had already let her know too much.

"Quit blowing me off like that," She complained. Her tempting lips frowned and I remembered how she tasted. How her lips felt as they moved against mine. "I want to know what's going on."

"I…" I trailed off and frowned. I had made my decision in the hall and I wasn't going to let her sway me. "I'll explain it to you when we get home. I'll tell you why he attacked you, okay? But not here. Someone could overhear us."

'_I'm lying to you! I'm lying to you!_' My mind willed her to call my bluff. If she realized I was lying, maybe I'd have to change my mind. But of course she didn't know. I was nothing if not a good liar and she never even doubted me.

"Alright," She smiled because she trusted me. Because I could calm her with just my words. I've never been able to do that to a girl before. "We'll talk at home then."

She trusted me. How had I let myself get so close to a girl that she actually trusted me?

"Fine," I bit off before scowling angrily at the wall.

"Oh, and Butch?" She tilted her head and smiled a bit bashfully.

"Yeah?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Can I possibly go see Jazz?" She looked hopefully at me and smiled wider. "I don't think the nurses will let me go alone but if you go with me I'm sure they'll let me walk around. I might even be able to leave tonight if you lie and say you'll keep an eye on me."

"Okay," I said without hesitation. I agreed to her whims much too easily.

"Good," She slid off the bed. "Now step out please while I change."

I wordlessly stepped forward and she watched with amusement as I pulled the curtain around her bed. Soon I wasn't able to see her and I could hear her giggle softly from the other side of the curtain. I sighed and stepped away to wait in the corner. I didn't want to leave her. Not just yet. I'd wait for her in the room, but that's as far as I'd go for now.

"Ew," She groaned from the other side. "These clothes are gross. I need to throw them away and take a shower when I get home."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before letting a sarcastic tone slip into my voice. "You'd probably pass out in the shower, knowing you."

"Gee thanks buddy," She quipped and I could hear the rustle of clothing.

A few minutes later the curtain was pulled back and Bubbles stepped towards me. She was holding my jacket in her hands and the paper gown was folded up on the bed. Her clothes that she was wearing were what caught my attention, however.

She was covered in blood. Her jeans, her shirt, and even her shoes were crusted with dried blood. With a shuddering breath I realized I had begun to see red. My pulse pounded in my ears and all I could think about was murdering Grant Audley.

"What the fuck?" I asked before I could stop myself. Her small smile faltered. "Why are you soaked with blood? I thought you only got scratched up." I stepped towards her and reached for her arm. "Where else are you hurt? Are you still bleeding?"

She let me drag her closer and I was quick to check over her arm that was freshly bandaged from the nurse. No new blood there. Where else was she bleeding? My anger made it hard for me to concentrate and I was trying my best to be gentle with her, but I really wanted to rip someone's head off.

"I'm fine, Butch," She sounded a bit embarrassed. I didn't believe her. "Really. Don't get upset."

Don't get upset? Was she joking?

By now didn't she know how pissed I got when she was hurt? How did she think I'd react to the sight of her blood?

"It's not my blood," She said quietly, almost as if she had read my mind. I looked down at her and her blue eyes were trained on her bloody shoes. "It's Jazz's."

She looked almost ill as she said this and I realized how hard it must've been for her to put those clothes back on. For her to have driven here and thought clearly while covered in so much blood. Not even her own. A little girl's blood.

Strong. This girl was strong.

"Put my jacket back on," I ordered stiffly, again trying to pull back my anger that had somehow seeped out. It was getting harder and harder to do.

She complied without hesitation and soon only her jeans and shoes could be seen. It was slightly better that way and I could see her grip the jacket tighter around herself. I reached out and grabbed the cold metal of the zipper. She moved her hands away as I pulled it up and she watched me curiously.

"Thanks," She said after a pregnant pause. "Sorry if it gets a little bloody."

I said nothing. She'd be keeping it anyway.

"Come on," She smiled and her small hands pulled at my arm. "Let's go make sure Jazz is alright. I don't want to go alone."

I wordlessly let her lead me out.

---

"Christ," I muttered as we were shown into Jazz's room. I'd never seen so many wires going into one little girl. The room was filled with the hum of machinery and smelled like stale air and the copper scent of blood.

"She's stable now," The doctor was telling Bubbles. It wasn't protocol to let us in to see Jazz but since Bubbles was the one to bring her in the doctor wasn't really wanting to deny us. "She lost a lot of blood, however, and that's not good for someone of her size."

"But she'll be okay, right?" Bubbles' fingernails were digging into the skin on my forearm but she didn't seem aware.

"Only time will tell us that," The doctor vaguely replied. "Who knows? She could make a full recovery. She's young and she's strong, there's always that going for her. But she hasn't gained consciousness yet. And that's a bad thing. There's a slim chance she won't wake back up."

"You gave her a blood transfusion, right?" Bubbles was frowning and looking over at the little girl on the bed. "She should be better."

"Theoretically, yes," He sighed. "But sometimes even transfers of the same blood type don't react well with a person's body. We'll have to see how it goes."

"Thank you," Bubbles' voice was deflated and the doctor simply nodded before leaving us alone in the room. Bubbles let go of her grip on my arm and moved away from me. She seemed unsure but she was still slowly walking towards the bed.

I didn't follow behind her but instead kept a distance. I hated hospitals and didn't feel comfortable being in one. Seeing Jazz and knowing how close she was to death didn't bode well with me either. I wondered how Ace was doing. I knew I needed to find out soon and get my head back into the game.

"Hey Jazz," Bubbles timidly took Jazz's hand in her own. "I'm so, so sorry I couldn't save you from being hurt. I tried, I really did."

The girl lay motionless, unconscious and unaware of her guests. Her small, round face looked like she was sleeping heavily. Her normally messy hair had been combed back by the hospital staff and her olive skin looked almost ashen. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, almost like a stab of a knife, I realized something I hadn't noticed before.

Amid all the wires, IV tubes, and blood packets Jazz lay with Bubbles gripping her right hand. Her _only_ hand.

"Her arm…" Bubbles said as if she were just noticing as well. "She lost her arm."

It'd been shot off. A four-year old had her arm shot off because a desperate gang leader was too afraid to fight like a man.

Bubbles eyes slid shut for a brief moment and a single tear streaked down her cheek. Her eyes opened again and she looked back at me. She looked as tired as I felt.

"I tried to save her," She begged me to understand in a whisper of a voice. And I did. I understood all too well. "I wanted to get hurt, not her. I wanted him to just leave her alone."

"It's not your fault. I swear," I said and suddenly my cold tone felt unsatisfying and lacking. She shook her head and looked back at the girl. I watched her profile and my eyes sketched the swollen and bruised side of her face. It was discolored and distorted.

I frowned.

"She'll wake up," The words came from my mouth before I could stop them. How could I know if Jazz would wake up? "She'll be okay." As long as I was already lying, why stop?

Bubbles' smiled, reassured. She reached out and stroked the girl's hair in a motherly way. She eyes were sad and her motions were gentle as she touched the girls' cheek before letting her hands gently touch her bandaged shoulder where her arm used to be.

"You'll be alright sweetie," Her blonde hair fell down to block her face from me. "I won't let you get hurt again."

I walked closer and stared down at Ace's sister. I remembered how she'd always be hanging around the hallways of my apartment building. She liked me because I was Ace's friend and I never minded her when she tried to get underfoot. She was a good kid. Already knew how to sneak about and she was only four.

"I'm sorry," Bubbles continued in a soft tone. "I really wish I could have taken this pain for you. You're much too young to deal with it."

My hand slid to grip Bubbles' shoulder. She tensed at first but then relaxed against me as she continued to talk soothingly to the unconscious girl. I wished I was thousands of miles away from there. A lifetime away. Somewhere far away from the cramped hospital room. Somewhere far away from the injured girl in the bed before me. Away from it all. I couldn't deal with it. I didn't know how.

I hated not knowing. I hated feeling useless.

"Why'd you use my last name for your hospital chart?" I asked because I needed to distract her. I needed to distract myself. My head was pounding and I felt very tired.

Bubbles tensed again and I let my hand slide away from her shoulder. She stood up and turned to face me, an odd look in her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment and I felt so very tired.

"Let's go home," She said instead of answering me. Her eyes looked away and her cheeks colored appealingly. "Please."

"Stay here for a minute," I said as my voice suddenly went void of all emotion. "I have to do something real quick."

"But-" She began to protest but I was already stepping away from her, away from her eyes and her frown.

"I'll be right back," I lied easily.

I left before she could say anything else.

---

"Can I help you?" The operator asked as I held the payphone to my ear. The lobby was filled with low talking and white noise and no one bothered to notice me as I huddled close to the phone box.

"Yes," I said stoically. Businesslike. I had to be rational. This was for the best. "Can you connect me to someone's house phone? I forgot the number." I explained simply.

"I'll need a name," The operator replied.

I sighed. It was what I had to do. I knew that. I understood. But that didn't make it any less hard. I was disgusted with myself to find that I didn't want to give Bubbles up. I liked her constant, warm presence. It was different. It was innocent. And now I was destroying it. Because that was who I was. It was what I did.

The only way for her to be safe was for me to send her away. I understood that.

I hadn't liked lying to Bubbles, even though it had been so easy. I had liked her trust, no matter how misguided it had been. But now I needed to protect her, even if that meant losing her trust.

"Sir?" The operator urged me from the other end of the line.

"Bussey," I said with a clipped tone. "Andrew Bussey."

The line clicked and the sound of a phone ringing came over the receiver. I waited three rings before he answered.

"Andrew Bussey speaking, may I ask who is calling?" His light, polite tone came to my ears and I rolled my eyes. Pussy.

"Listen close and listen good, kid, because I'm only going to say this once" I began with a demanding and authoritative air. The kind of tone rich pricks understood. "You're going to do exactly what I say and you aren't going to ask any questions, got it?"

There was a slight pause from his end. "Okay, continue." He said at last, his voice more serious than before.

---

I slipped out into the night, leaving the hospital behind as the doors whirled shut behind me. It was cold outside and still dark. My breath hung in the air and I felt the absence of my jacket. I ignored the chill and began to move down the sidewalk, needing distance away from the hospital. Away from her.

My feet were moving towards my apartment, a familiar path, but then with a second thought I decided to change my course.

Someone had raided our warehouse and I needed to focus on that. That was important. I began to walk towards Audley territory. It was only a few blocks over from the hospital and I would reach it quickly. I knew, from prior leads and contact with the Audley Boys, where most of the high ups lived and where the chumps resided. No one knew where Grant Audley lived, which was good for him, but I aimed to figure that out.

A car honked as I cut out in front of it and ran across the street. The buildings loomed in the cold night air and I shouldered past a few groups of young teenagers that were huddled together and passing a joint. The next corner was the final one and as I turned it I was aware of the change in territory.

Many different sigmas donned the walls and subways of our territory due to the fact that we had absorbed so many different groups and gangs. The Audley territory, however, was small and had only one symbol. The familiar skull that was tattooed onto many faces was sprayed on almost every surface before me. I scowled at the mark and looked around the street.

A few people were out on stoops or leaned against cars, despite the cold air and ungodly hour. Talking and smoking. None of them looked too threatening. If anything the young men were probably just new products of the underground. They didn't even have the instincts to notice me, not that they would have stood a chance anyway.

I easily moved through the shadows, glad to be wearing a black t-shirt and dark jeans. I read the numbers on the small, run-down buildings as I passed each one. I waited for one in particular. The building that Farrell lived in. He was older—in his late thirties, and had been in the Audley Gang for years.

He'd know about the warehouse. And if I was lucky, he'd know where I could find Grant too.

---

I walked down the hallway towards Farrell's apartment. It wasn't really an apartment, more of a place of business which is why I had heard about it before. Farrell had been running a small brothel from this building since before I was born. It had died out about ten years ago for whatever reason and now the rooms were empty. The police had shut it down.

But he still lived in the place, god knows why, but had moved his prostitutes somewhere else. So that meant I had the bastard to myself. No one to hear him yell. No one to call the police.

My steps faltered as I slowed before a thick wood door before finally stopping. It was unfinished like all the others but from the ware on the doorknob and carpet I could tell it was the more frequently used door. That meant he was living there.

No sound came from the other side but that didn't mean much. Instinctively I reached for my gun and…

_Fuck._

My mind went blank for a moment when I realized Brick had never given my gun back to me. It was still in his jacket, wherever he was. I felt suddenly a bit more vulnerable than before. Farrell would have a gun. I could fight him easily, but I wasn't superman. I couldn't deflect a bullet.

My hand flexed, feeling too empty without the cold metal, and I fisted it.

"Shit," I muttered.

I crouched down, drawing my knife from my shoe and flicking it open. The blade wouldn't do much good but I felt better holding it. My heart began to beat a bit faster, the familiar urge to fight overtaking me. The anger I had felt before in the hospital came rushing into my body at once and I reveled in the dark feel of it.

Farrell may have a gun but I had incentive.

I wasn't going to back down. Not if I had a chance to get some information from him.

I took a breath before moving swiftly and with one sound kick the door cracked and fell away from the frame. It landed with a loud thump on the other side but before I could register the noise I was already stepping over it and into the room. My back pressed against the wall as I paused for a moment, waiting to hear him moving.

Nothing.

Not a sound.

Really? He wasn't even there?

I felt slightly foolish but ignored that as I pushed away from the wall and moved into the apartment. The large apartment. Farrell had taken advantage of the lack of neighbors and had torn the walls down around him. Now it was just one huge apartment, decorated tackily like a Colombian drug lord's home.

I shoved my blade back into my pocket and began to look around. No lights were on but a streetlight from outside shown in the front windows and made it easier to see. His bed was messy but unimportant. The nightstands were covered in empty vodka bottles and a lamp was tipped over in a far corner. I flipped through some papers that were lying on the floor but nothing seemed important, just mere testaments to how sloppy this guy was.

There had to be something there. I wasn't expecting to find a list of all their locations and plans but I was expecting _something._ All of their crap must be at Grant's place.

A desk in the corner caught my eyes and I walked towards it. The top was scattered with reminders. Grocery lists and memos on gun types. I pocketed the list of guns, hoping that maybe there was link there with the type of ammo that was stolen. Besides that nothing else was really on the desk. I went to open the drawers but it didn't budge.

"A lock?" I scowled down at it and crouched. With practiced movements I picked the lock and was satisfied when the drawer lurched open.

I squinted down as I pulled out the contents of the drawer. My mouth tightened and my shoulders tensed as my fingers touched a stack of glossy paper. Even in the darkened room I could make out the images on the pictures and I felt myself glower. If I could growl I probably would have.

Pictures. A whole stack of pictures of Bubbles. They had been following her. I flipped through them quickly. There was Bubbles at work in her worn uniform, Bubbles next to me under an awning as it rained outside, Bubbles at the Laundromat, Bubbles walking down the street. She had been followed since they first saw her with me.

The last picture was obstructed by a slip of paper that had been stuck in between the photos. I read over the careless scrawl and my jaw tightened. It read:

'_Bubbles Utonium, 19, dispensable. Kill if in contact. No need to question._'

On the back of the paper was a short list that included her apartment address, her work address, and a short description of her. I sighed and shoved the small paper in my pocket as well before I looked down at the last picture it had been covering.

It was a picture of us that had been taken only a few days earlier as we stood outside the bar Bubbles had gotten tipsy in. The image versions of us were holding onto each other and the flush on her cheeks wasn't exactly from alcohol but more from the fact that we had just been kissing moments prior. She was smiling brilliantly up at me and I had allowed myself a moment of reprieve and a smirk was pulling at my lips. Her light blue eyes shown brightly even through the grainy picture.

With practiced indifference I tossed the pictures onto the desk and looked back down at the rest of what had been in the drawer. I didn't need to think of her. It was pointless now. She was gone and I had business to take care of. No matter how angry I felt that she had been followed I couldn't let that hinder me.

The rest of the papers were documents of drug shipments, calculations on how much they owed dealers, and statistics for betting on horse races. No wonder it had been locked up. I took the documents pertaining to drug shipments and left the rest on the desk. I looked quickly around the rest of the apartment but found nothing else I needed.

I went to his bed and easily turned over his mattress. On the box spring was an assortment of guns, all loaded. I grabbed two and shoved them back behind my back. A piece of me still felt unsatisfied. A large piece of me. I had wanted a fight.

In an attempt to at least momentarily quench my anger I grabbed the nearest bottle of unopened vodka. I opened it and began to pour the clear liquid over his mattress, his clothes, his floor. I strode over to his desk and poured the remains of it across the papers.

And in the dark, twisting wickedness that was my mind I let myself think of Bubbles even though I knew I shouldn't.

I remembered Bubbles' destroyed apartment as I opened another bottle and began to pour it beneath the windows.

I remembered her bruised face as I calmly turned the gas stove on in his kitchen area. The blue gas flickered to life, waiting for a flame to start it.

I remembered her trusting eyes the last time I saw her, the last time I would ever see her, as I grabbed a pack of matches off the table.

"You shouldn't have hurt her, Grant," I muttered against the thick smell of alcohol and gas as it leaked from the kitchen. A small, red dot of light made me look up into a corner and I smirked to see a rotating camera hung against the wall. Security system? I should have figured.

I gave the camera the one finger salute, my eyes cold. With quick movements I grabbed a match from the box and stuck it into life as I backed towards the door. I flung in back behind me as I turned and booked it out of there. The sound of glass shattering and flames roaring followed me to the street. I stepped out to the sidewalk and quickly moved to the left as three figures flew around the corner.

"What the fuck?!" It was one of the younger Audley Boys, accompanied by two other ones. They stood in earnest beneath the building and looked up at the orange flames that could be seen through the shattered windows.

I smirked and backed into a small alcove, bathing myself in shadows.

"That's Farrell's place," Another one whispered to no one in particular. They all shifted, unsure of what to do. The one closest to me turned his head and by the way his eyes narrowed I thought he had seen me for a moment. My fingers slowly grabbed for my new gun, ready to pull it and shoot.

But not a moment after he looked into the space where I was his eyes were already moving again and I relaxed "We should go get someone." He said as he gazed down the street. His round face looked anxious. He couldn't have been older than fourteen.

"Yeah," They all agreed in a rush.

Soon they were moving down the street and hurrying further into the territory. I moved silently behind them, keeping close to the shadows and stalking them as if they were some small prey. Maybe they could lead me to someone else, someone with some more information.

A cold smile lit my face as I listened to the fire crackle fiercely behind me.

I would not be a victim. I would fight back.

---

Those punks had led me on a wild goose chase for about an hour. All for nothing. They were obviously too young to know anyone important and had only went tattling to some other new members. The scandal of the burning building was the only thing they talked about too, meaning they hadn't heard or been involved with the burning of our warehouse.

"Useless fucks," I muttered as I walked into my apartment. The door shut behind me and I glanced around. Everything was as I'd left it. I sighed and I walked over to the small closet. I grabbed the stack of papers from my pocket and shoved them beneath the blanket on the top shelf.

I'd show them to Brick later.

First I needed a shower.

My shirt stuck to me with dirt and sweat because no matter how cold it was outside, I still had managed to work up a sweat following those pimple faced idiots. I pulled off the thin black fabric and tossed it into a pile in the corner. My fingers unconsciously traced the scar across my abdomen. It tightened the skin against my stomach cut through two tattoos but somehow it seemed to fit when I saw it so I didn't mind too much.

I rolled my neck around, feeling sore and tired as I unbuckled my belt and walked towards the bathroom. Before my jeans and boxers hit the ground I grabbed the two stolen guns and placed them on my bed. The gleamed in the dim light and I felt better at the sight of them.

The water was warm as I turned it on and I quickly stepped beneath the spray, knowing it wouldn't be warm for long. Hot water hit my shoulders and I closed my eyes. I needed to sleep. Too much had happened in the past few hours and I didn't want to think about any of it.

Instead I focused on my tensed muscles and began to let myself relax underneath the water. I heard my door to my apartment shake and then open over the sound of the drain and I froze for a moment, my eyes flying open. I was suddenly tense again.

"Butch?" Boomer's voice came in through the bathroom door.

"Once second," I said before grabbing for the shampoo and scrubbing away the smell of alcohol and smoke that had clung to my hair. The door to the bathroom opened and I could hear Boomer come in and shift through some stuff on my sink.

"Got any medicine for a headache?" He asked and I heard him fumble and shake some Tylenol he'd just found.

"Go ahead," I consented as I routinely washed my body. Shoulders, arms, chest, stomach…the water was already getting cold. Too cold for such a cold night. Winter always sucked.

I shut off the water and stepped out from the shower. Boomer was already throwing a towel at me and I wrapped it around my waist before watching him pop a few pills. Puddles formed on the tiled floor beneath my feet as my hair dripped and hung into my eyes. I pushed it back with mild irritation.

"Here," Boomer was holding out four pills and I let him drop them into my hand. I swallowed them and prayed they'd work fast.

"So what are you doing here?" I asked him as I walked out into my den/bedroom. I grabbed some boxers and pulled them up over my hips as I let the towel fall. Boomer walked behind me, his footsteps slow. I sat down on the edge of my bed and he leaned on the wall.

"You set Farrell's place on fire?" He said with a raised brow. I said nothing and a boyish smile lit up his face. "Dude, that's awesome."

"Brick knows?" I guess while taking the two stolen guns and sliding one beneath my pillow and the other under my mattress where the rest of my guns were stored.

"Yeah," Boomer shrugged. "He's too busy with Ace to be mad though."

"How's Ace?" I asked. I remembered that Boomer was supposed to be with Jazz but I didn't mention it. I was too tired to argue with him and besides, I wouldn't have sat still if I were him either. Especially not in that hospital with that small girl. My stomach churned at the thought.

"Pissed as hell," Boomer looked down at his feet. "Brick and Ace are going to the other warehouses tonight to make sure no one else is being paid off. Brick somehow calmed him down enough to think reasonably. Ace was all bloody when Brick found him though, so I think he beat up some people first. No one important."

I remembered the young Audley Boys I'd been following earlier. I'd been close to beating them up a few times, just because.

"And Jazz?" I asked as I moved to my closet and grabbed the blanket and pillow Bubbles had once used. I tossed it to my brother and he caught them instinctively against his chest.

"She's still the same," He frowned as he laid the blanket out on the floor. "Alive but not awake."

I said nothing as he laid down on the floor, pulling the blanket up around his shoulders. He was still wearing his jacket and shoes, probably too tired to bother removing either of them. I moved and grabbed my discarded jeans from the floor. I pulled the picture from the pocket and climbed into my own bed.

"Where's Bubbles?" Boomer asked tiredly from his spot on the ground.

I stared down at the picture in my hand, barely making out the image in the dim light that my apartment held. Bubbles was smiling up at my smirking face as our bodies pushed against each other. I noted her flushed cheeks and white smile with a bit of a frown. I don't know why I had grabbed this picture before I left Farrell's burning apartment.

I blinked and folded the picture so that I couldn't see the scene. I don't know why I kept it but it wouldn't hurt keeping it a bit longer.

"Butch?" Boomer pressed as I slid the creased picture beneath my pillow to rest along with the stolen gun.

"I sent her away." My toneless voice replied.

---

"_Homeless brat," The cop was scowling at Boomer, his fat face red with anger and fatigue. He had just chased my blonde brother on foot for over ten blocks and had only caught him because I taxi had nearly killed them both. Now he was gripping Boomer's collar so hard the material was stretched and almost ripping. In his other hand he held a brown wallet. "You're going to get it this time."_

"_It was just a wallet," Boomer complained loudly. His young, ten year old face twisted with exasperation. He was notoriously fast and was probably mad he'd been caught by such a fat cop. "There wasn't any money any it anyway, just some credit cards."_

"_I don't care what was in it," The cop shoved Boomer towards the direction of his car. He'd had to get out of his car when Boomer cut through an alley. "You stole this wallet and there are consequences for stealing, son. It's called juvenile hall."_

"_I think you're overacting," Boomer frowned thoughtfully, his big blue eyes moving to the side and catching mine from where I stood behind a dumpster. "It was only a wallet."_

"_Don't think I'm an idiot!" The cop barked. "I've had to drag you and your brothers back to the orphanage one too many times. This time you're getting-"_

"_Consequences…I know…" Boomer stumbled along as the cop's meaty fist half dragged him away. _

"_Running away from an orphanage, how stupid can you get kid?" The cop kept prattling on as I moved out from my hiding spot and began to follow them at a short distance. "Would you rather be homeless than live in an orphanage? It can't be that bad."_

"_It's pretty bad, sir," Boomer said helpfully. "You've obviously never lived with Mrs. Falun."_

"_Don't be a smart ass," The cop gruffly yanked Boomer and I watched as my brother's feet rose off the ground for a moment before he managed to keep walking again. "You'll starve on the street, kid."_

"_I'll starve with Mrs. Falun," Boomer sighed. "I've missed so many dinners I'm beginning to forget what soup and stale crackers taste like."_

"_I said quit being smart," The cop snorted. _

"_I'm not being smart, I'm being as honest as I can be," Boomer threw a quick look over his shoulder as if to assure himself that I was still following them. His dark blue eyes met mine and I waved with a taunting smirk._

"_Well you'll get three meals in juvenile hall," the cop said plainly. "That'll satisfy your stomach."_

"_I'd rather starve," Boomer said sourly._

"_Would you rather steal wallets for the rest of your life?" The cop asked. "Would you rather grow up to be a fuckup with no future? Would you rather become society's shit?"_

"_I'd rather be with my mother," Boomer's soft reply caught my ears as I drew closer. I frowned as the cop laughed a sharp bark of laughter. _

"_Well if your mother wanted you, you wouldn't be in the orphanage," The cop's shoulders shook with silent laughter. "And then both of our problems would be solved."_

"_My mother wanted me," Boomer said knowingly. "She just couldn't keep me. There's a difference."_

"_Whatever kid," The cop turned a corner and I followed at a closer distance than before. I threaded through people on the streets, my eyes never leaving my brother's blond hair as I easily kept up with the slow pace of the fat cop. "You're just a punk now. It's written in your fate. Get used to it."_

"_Pain must be written in your fate then," Boomer smiled up at the cop. The cop faltered and looked down at him. "Get used to it."_

_I moved fast to shove my foot between the cop's two boots as I drove my shoulder into the meat of his back. His body lurched forwards and he let out a yelp of surprise. His arms flailed for balance as he pitched face-first into the concrete sidewalk. I smiled as I caught Boomer's arm and yanked him after me. Together we ran down the street, cutting through allies, jumping fences, and slipping further away from the law._

"_Idiot," I said sarcastically as we both slowed to a stop. We hunched over, hands on our knees s we panted. I looked up at him through the black bangs that stuck to my forehead and went into my eyes. That was one thing that I missed when we ran away from Mrs. Falun—haircuts. Brick cut my hair sometimes, but he was ten too and sucked at it._

"_S-sorry," Boomer panted and sat back on an overturned trashcan. He shirt's collar was ripped now and we both knew he didn't have another one. "I didn't think I'd get caught."_

"_Ace warned you," I said as I plopped down on the ground. "Be _careful_ Boomer. I'm not always going to be there to save you, okay?" _

_Boomer said nothing, his head hung in slight embarrassment. It wouldn't last long though. My brother bounced back quicker than a new basketball. He didn't really get hurt feelings. He just got scolded for a moment until we forgot we were mad at him._

"_I don't need to be saved," Boomer smiled. "Look." _

_He pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and tossed it to me. I caught it easily and quickly flipped through the bills. Two-hundred. That would be good for some food. Ace would want some of the money too. He joked that we'd have to pay him for teaching us the ways of the streets. He joked but we knew he was serious. _

_Luckily we'd learned a lot on our own so we didn't need too many lessons. Really we were just paying to be in his good graces. He could've kicked our asses the first time he caught us stealing from his gang, but instead he'd treated us like prodigies. Brick was his favorite and I was close behind. _

"_We can probably save one hundred for food," Boomer was standing now, his dark blue eyes watching me. "The rest for Ace, right?"_

"_No," I said, shaking my head and staring down at the cash. "You keep the other hundred. Buy a shirt and buy something you like."_

"_But…" Boomer began to protest and then frowned. "Ace might get mad."_

_I stood up and grabbed my brother's shoulder. I placed the money back in his hand and he closed his fingers around it.._

"_Family comes first," I said smartly. "You need a shirt. Besides, _you_ stole the money, not Ace."_

"_But…" He began to protest again but stopped. Take, take, take. That was the rule of the street. Being selfish had its advantages. It kept you alive. "Fine." He agreed. "I'll keep it. You can get something too if you want."_

_But being selfish wasn't allowed between my brothers and me. We did what we could to stay together and stay alive. That meant looking out for each other. No one else would ever get in the way of that. I could never trust anyone like I trust the blond, familiar boy before me._

"_Sure," I shrugged. "If that'll make you happy."_

_Our mom would have wanted us to be happy. She would have wanted us, but she couldn't keep us. She had died because she wasn't strong enough. She had lost us, but we still had each other. And that was more important than anything. That was the most important thing I could think of._

"_Okay," Boomer sighed as he pocketed the money. _

_Two thieves, two brothers standing in a dim alley. Homeless and rough. We had the same nose, the same chin, and the same bleak future. The same past as well. We shared it all. That's what brothers did. Despite our status as homeless brats, we shared what we could._

_My mom would have been proud, I liked to think. She would have loved us anyway. She would have kept us, but she couldn't. I understood that then and even better now. You can't always keep the ones you love. _

_Sometimes you simply loose them along the way._

_---_

"Yeah, the ammo they stole was definitely for these orders," Brick shuffled through the papers I had gotten. "But I think they were more than likely trying to send a message."

"Well I sent them a message back," I responded plainly as I leaned back in my seat. My gaze flickered over to where Ace sat glaring blankly down at the table. He hadn't shaved and his gaze didn't waver. He had hardly spoken except to bark a few orders at Snake and Grubber.

"Yes, and they heard it loud and clear," Brick sighed as he picked up the small piece of paper with Bubbles' information on it. His eyes scanned the words briefly before his red irises rose to meet mine. "They were tracking her?" I nodded. "The whole time?"

"I suppose," I shrugged with as much nonchalance as I could muster.

"And where is she now?" Brick and I both looked over to where Ace was watching me, waiting for my answer. It was the first time he had said anything to me since we'd gotten to his house. I wasn't even sure he knew I was there.

"Where is Grant Audley?" I changed the subject. "Why haven't we found him yet?"

"It's only been a day," Brick rubbed at his temples. "He's probably hiding out. Farrell is probably at his throat trying to get him to kill you."

"We need to find him."

"Is she safe?" Ace's low, angry voice interrupted me. I looked back over at him "Make sure she's safe, Butch."

"She's safe," I replied, my gaze meeting Bricks' before looking back the older man.

"Where?"

"She's safe," I repeated. I had done what I had to in order to keep her safe. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to think about it.

"Where is she?" Ace looked up at me, his eyes were bloodshot but not from crying.

"I sent her away," I said simply. Brick was looking back down at the sheet in his hands, a frown on his face. Ace stared at me for a moment before looking back down at the table, almost as if forgetting me again. I knew he was mad. I knew he was thinking of all the painful things he wanted to do to Grant Audley. But still, his behavior was disconcerting.

"It was for the best," He said at last. We didn't respond and instead turned our attention to the list of debts.

---

"I've heard you've been in contact with Grant Audley," I said in an indifferent tone as I watched the dealer shift before me. He was a practiced dealer, sly and invasive. He didn't look threatened by me or by Big Billy who stood a few feet behind me. Instead he leaned casually against the wall as he chewed on some snuff.

"I'm in contact with a lot of people," He grinned at me and then at Big Billy.

"When was the last time you saw Grant?" I pointedly glared at him.

"I don't recall," The mad shrugged and spit onto the ground not and inch from my shoe. I sneered and stepped threateningly closer. He didn't falter.

"Tell me and you can keep your kneecaps in one piece," I said in a chilling whisper.

His eyes narrowed. "If I tell you where he is and then the Audley Boys win, they'll kill me for betraying them."

"And if you don't tell me _I_'ll kill you," I said darkly. "Trust me, I'll kill you slowly. You'll wish you had reconsidered and spit your shit in another direction. You don't want to mess with me. Got that? You don't want to push your luck with me."

"The Audley Boys owe me money," The dealer explained with a sense of entitlement. "I aim to collect that before you go off and try to kill them."

"Tell me where he is," I fisted the front of his shirt and shook him once, sending him off balance. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Tell me now before I decide you aren't really that valuable."

"You don't scare me," The dealer smiled slickly. "All brawn and no brains."

"Then I'm pretty lucky, huh? I don't need brains to kick your ass," I held tight to his shirt as I drew my other arm back, aiming a punch for his jaw.

"Wait!" He put his hands up, trying to block his face. I should have pegged him as a pretty boy earlier; it would have gone a lot easier. "Okay, okay tough guy, chill out for moment. How about we talk a bit more and save me a nose job."

"All brains and no brawn?" I guessed sarcastically. The dealer made a move to run but I held fast to his shirt and scowled at him. "Your mom must be so proud." I yanked him towards Big Billy and the dealer stumbled a bit before he ran into the large man's chest. Big Billy immediately grabbed onto his shoulders and spun him around, effortlessly keeping him in place so that he couldn't run away.

"Jeez," The man breathed with an upset frown. "Someone forgot to take their happy pills."

"Where is he?" I felt the man's nose cracked as my fist made contact. His head snapped to the side and his knees buckled in shock. Big Billy kept him from falling but nothing could stop the blood that was now trailing down his nose and onto his chin.

"Fuck," He spit blood against my shirt but I allowed myself to ignore that.

"You might want to answer," Big Billy said slowly. "Butch gets mad."

"Really, slick?" The dealer grinned despite the blood. "I couldn't tell." He panted a bit before his eyes locked on me. "Okay, here's the deal. I'll tell you what I know but after that you never bother me again, deal? This conversation never happened and neither of you remember me after tonight."

I nodded.

"Okay, so Grant doesn't normally come to me, his men do. Grant doesn't even buy anything. The only reason I've even met him is because those idiots haven't paid for their last two shipments and I'm not cutting them any deals. He came by to see how much money I needed."

I listened to this. It wasn't anything I hadn't figured out on my own. We already knew the Audley Boys were desperate for cash which is why they were so desperate to spread their territory. This dealer was probably sending some muscle out to go scare them. He wasn't the only dealer they'd been ripping off either. How Grant Audley could let his men be so careless was beyond me.

"Where'd you meet him?" I frowned.

"The corner building on fifth street," He offered quickly and I saw that Big Billy's fingers were clutching the man's shoulders tighter than necessary. That's where—"

"The heroin gallery is," I finished while motioning for Big Billy to let him go.

"That's the last place I saw him," The man was delicately touching his arms where bruises would most likely form. He touched his nose and his face fell a bit when he felt the crooked position of it. "I'm not saying he'll be there, but that's where he goes when he has to give someone a payment. Maybe someone there will know more."

---

The heroin gallery was hardly clean and regulated like they were supposed to be. Instead the building was even more torn down then my own apartment building and completely shady. People were hanging around outside, most too drugged up to realize the freezing weather. Big Billy had gone back to Ace and so I walked alone up the front steps made of crumbling concrete.

The air inside the building was thick with a stench I couldn't quite identify and I could still see my breath despite the fact that I was indoors. No heating, I realized sourly as I pulled the jacket I'd borrowed from Brick a bit tighter around myself. A few people were scattered in the halls, laying down or sitting in doorways. They were slumped and unresponsive.

Static music and slow laughter could be heard upstairs, most likely where the head of the house was.

"Hey," I called as I saw a woman walking around. I jogged after her but she ignored me. Quickly I reached for her arm. "Do you know where I could find-"

"Get off me!" The woman screeched as her small hands suddenly began swatting at me. I took a disgruntled step back and released her. She was staggered away, muttering to herself and scratching at her arms. I watched her climb slowly up the rotting steps, her thin back hunched.

"She wouldn't have been much help anyway. That woman's clear out of her mind," A teasing tone came from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder to see Sadie Wilson staring at me with a broad smile. Her hand was messing with her curly black hair and her blue eyes were watching me closely. I smirked at her, my eyes quickly noting the short material of her skirt and her long legs. The girl must be freezing but I didn't mind.

"What are you doing here?" She asked as she walked a bit closer. Her smile was daring but her eyes were a bit nervous as she approached me.

"I could ask you the same thing," I said before looking back towards the steps where the woman had disappeared.

"Why? Are you worried about me?" Sadie stepped so that her body was only a breath from mine. I could feel the heat of her skin through both her clothes and through mine. Her tone had seemed casual but I could hear the expectancy beneath it. The question her mouth was too scared to ask.

"It's Snake's job to be worried about you," I said dismissively but didn't bother pushing her away. "Not mine."

She bit her lip and looked around the dingy building. "But Snake isn't here."

I said nothing and she smiled again. Her daring smile was accompanied by the light touch of her hand on my arm. She pulled at me, dragging me towards the steps. I followed wordlessly and watched the practiced sway of her hips as she led me upstairs. The lights flickered above us as our footsteps made the stairs creak in protest.

"Sadie…" I began to object but the words stuck on my tongue. I had to get back to looking for Grant but the sight of her bare skin exposed by her small top and skirt made me reconsider. I hadn't slept with a girl since…since I started liking Bubbles.

I frowned at that realization. Had it really been so long? My humming blood told me it had and I sighed.

"Here," Sadie said as she opened a door. "We can use this room."

I looked around the tiny room which only had room enough for a bed. With the state of this place I doubted it was the most hygienic bed but I suddenly didn't care. I'd slept with Sadie before, I knew the drill. I'd slept with many girls like her. It was quick and selfish and without any strings.

It was just what I needed. A distraction. A meaningless distraction.

I pulled my jacket off and tossed it aside. My shirt followed after that and I felt the cold sink into my body and rest against my bare chest. Sadie's eyes gauged my motions and she seemed transfixed on the scar across my stomach. She looked duly impressed as she reached out to touch the scar.

"Snake told me about this," She breathed and ran her fingers across the plane of my stomach. My muscles clenched and I shied away from her cold hand. "It healed quickly, but damn did it scar." I said nothing and pushed her hand away as I began to unbutton my jeans.

Sadie frowned at my indifferent attitude before sighing and beginning to undress herself. Her top came off first and I watched her from the corner of my eye and saw her reach behind her back to unhook her bra. She noted my gaze and smiled hotly.

"This is going to have to be quick," I told her as I pulled her towards the bed.

"Fine," Her tone was sharp but her kiss was insistent as we both grabbed for each other. She tasted good and familiar and we fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. My blood coursed hotter than normal and I rolled so that she was beneath me. She moaned thickly and raised her knee up between my leg, causing a friction that made my jeans feel tighter and my touches get rougher.

My jeans were gone and then so was her skirt. Skin on skin felt so good I almost moaned and I realized again how long it had been since I'd had sex. My muscles tightened as she dragged her nails down my back and left stinging lines in their wake. I bit at her lip and my hips lowered to grind against her.

"Butch," She moaned and her sharp nails dug against my shoulders.

Quickly I disposed of her underwear and tossed it behind us. She trailed her hand down towards my now painful bulge and she pulled at the waistband of my boxers.

"Bubbles," I said against her panting mouth as I felt myself grow more that ready for her. My hands grabbed her thin hips, my shoulders tensed, and my body ached with a need I had been ignoring for too long. I heard her take a sharp breath and I couldn't stop to think of why.

I was almost in, her body warm and legs apart, when suddenly she pushed against my chest, keeping me back. Sadie's blue eyes stared up at me with an odd look and I scowled down at her, confused by the sudden change in pace.

"What the hell?" I frowned and tried to grab her but before I could process what was going on Sadie was out from underneath me and pressed up against the headboard of the bed. I watched her, my eyes wide and my blood still too hot for my veins.

"I'm so stupid," I heard her whisper as she tucked her knees beneath her chin and curled into a ball. Her black hair spilled down around her and her fingers clenched unconsciously. I stayed silent and she didn't look at me. Her eyes were trained on the far wall, a frown pulling at her lips.

"Sadie," I tried to sound patient but my irritation could be heard clearly in my tone. "What's wrong?" My eyes scanned her arms as I tried to see if I hurt her. No bruises.

"You called me Bubbles," She said so softly I almost didn't hear it. The strained sound in her voice was new to me as well as her hurt behavior.

"Wha-I called…" I trailed off and felt my body cool off almost instantly at the realization of my words. "Sadie…" I began to explain but then stopped. Why had I called her Bubbles? And why did Sadie even care? She had a boyfriend. She had plenty of boyfriends. She understood.

"Why do you like her so much?!" Her voice went angry and her watery eyes flashed. "She's not even that pretty! What makes her so much better than me?"

I swallowed and felt unsure of what to say. Bubbles just…_was_ better than her. She was better than every girl in my eyes. I couldn't explain it and I didn't want to try. I liked to ignore my emotions and avoid evaluating them. Especially when it came to my blonde neighbor.

"Sadie, this is pointless," My honesty came out cold but I didn't know how to fix that. I moved to the edge of the bed and ran a hand through my hair. "I have to go." I muttered while looking around for where all my clothes went.

"That's right, run away! You think you're so brave but you aren't, Butch!" Sadie reacted violently and I knew if I got close to her she'd lash out and smack me. "I can't stand how cold you get whenever any shows emotions."

I looked over at her. "I'm not your boyfriend, you don't have to like me." I pulled my boxers on and rolled my stiff shoulders.

"Bastard," She sniffed and I watched as black lines trailed down her face and her makeup seemed to crack with her anger. "You don't care about anyone but yourself."

Normally I would have agreed but my mind contradicted the statement. I cared about my brothers and I cared about Bubbles. That was enough for me.

"Get dressed," I gently ordered as I tossed her clothes at her. They landed next to her and she made no move to obey. Her face was buried against her knees and I had the distinct feeling she was refusing to look at me. I sighed and walked over to her. "Sadie, get dressed."

"Leave me alone," She mumbled and she jerked away from my hand as I tried to nudge her.

"Sadie it's freezing in this building," I snapped angrily at her. I didn't have time to deal with this. I shouldn't be their in the first place. "Get dressed before you freeze to death. What if some guy walks in on you sitting here naked? Everyone here is so doped up they wouldn't care if you screamed for help."

She tensed but refused to acknowledge the truth. "Why do you even care? Just leave." She blindly reached out to hit me and I deftly caught her arm. I stared down at the smooth skin of her arm and the marks that marred it.

Track marks.

"Jesus, Sadie," I scowled as I reached for her small shirt. I tried to get her arm through her sleeve and felt like I was dressing a child. Her sniffling only made her appear even more helpless. "I knew you were doing drugs, but heroin? I thought you were off that."

"I was," She looked up at me, her face smudged with makeup and her lip trembling. "But I needed to feel better. It helps." I looked down at the marks again and shook my head. I caught her other arm and pulled it through her other sleeve. She feebly moved to let me push the shirt down over her head. "Why else would I be _here_?"

I hadn't thought about why she was here because I hadn't really cared. I never really cared. Not about her. I realized this with a small twist of guilt but I knew it wasn't my place to care about her. You can't take care of everyone who you come into contact with.

Her black hair fell into her eyes but she made no move to move it and I found myself brushing it back with a clenched jaw. Snake was doing a shitty job keeping up with her. Next time I saw him I'd have to tell him she was shooting up again. Maybe he could say something to stop her.

"Why don't you like me?" Sadie whispered with confusion that betrayed her twenty years. I looked at her and blinked.

She would stop this habit if I asked her to. She would do anything I asked of her. She liked me. Had it always been so painfully obvious? I hadn't noticed before.

And all I had to do was tell her to stop shooting up. I could just let her melt against me and I could pretend I liked her back. We could fuck and we could be together. Why not? I didn't have Bubbles to keep track of anymore. I didn't have anything holding me back.

Only…only I really didn't want to. I didn't want her, at least not like that. I couldn't like her as I'd liked Bubbles. I couldn't like anyone as I'd liked Bubbles. Sadie knew that too. We both knew I would never feel for her what she felt for me. She would never be enough.

"Get dressed Sadie," I rubbed her cheek with my knuckles, the black mascara wiping away and leaving her face flushed and swollen from her tears. I'd never seen her without makeup.

"But-" She began to protest but I silenced her with a calming gesture.

"I'll take you home, okay?" I sighed. "Get dressed."

She looked shocked as I moved to get dressed myself. But soon her eyes sobered and she nodded slowly at me.

---

Sadie leaned against the door of the taxi, trying to sit as far away form me as possible. Now that she had stopped acting all weepy she had grown embarrassed but by her previous actions. But Sadie was raised in the streets and she knew better than to show her embarrassment. She was sitting stiffly now, trying to act calm and collected.

I looked briefly at her ruffled appearance. Her clothes were wrinkled, her makeup smeared, and her hair a mess. She was trying to comb her hair with her fingers in an effort to clean up.

"So…" She trailed off awkwardly, breaking the silence. "Where is Bubbles?" She was watching me from the corner of her eye. "I didn't think you'd let her out of your sight after she got jumped. Snake told me you were pissed about it."

I looked out the window at the buildings passing by. It wasn't a long ride back to her apartment but her sloppy steps hadn't been too reliable and I was too tired to carry her all the way back. She was grateful for the ride anyway, seeing as the taxi was heated and she had nearly shivered to death waiting for it.

"Why do you care?" I shot her own words back at her and I saw her eyes narrow.

"Just because I like _you_ doesn't mean I have to hate _her_," Sadie wasn't the type of girl to blush and instead she just raised her chin minutely. "And I don't want the girl to get hurt. I was really worried when I heard about it."

"She's fine," I looked back out the window.

"Was she hurt really bad?" Sadie's voice wasn't mocking. If anything it sounded a bit concerned.

"She's fine now," I frowned.

"You already said that," She sighed and there was a short pause. "Can I go see her?"

"Why would you want to do that?" I asked sharply and this time she actually had the decency to blush. We both knew she didn't really want to see Bubbles. That would just be adding insult to injury and I knew Sadie was still too raw to deal with that. As much as she didn't hate Bubbles now, jealousy would sing a different tune if she was actually in contact her blonde foil.

"Fine," She looked away. "I'll just ask around to hear if she's getting better. That'd probably be for the best. I doubt you'd appreciate it if _I_ jumped her." She tried to laugh but my cold expression silenced the attempt and she looked away again. "Just kidding."

"She's not here anymore," I said after a few tense moments of quiet. I felt Sadie's eyes widen but I didn't bother explaining.

"You sent her away," She obviously didn't need my explanation anyway. I hadn't realized my action was so predictable. "Where did you send her?"

"Back with her fiancée," I stiffly replied. I had been doing well to avoid thinking about that fact. I didn't want to remember who I'd shoved her off on. I didn't want to think of how much she'd trusted me to come back to her in that hospital room. I'd left her behind and I needed to leave her memory behind as well.

"She's engaged?!" Sadie's voice was laced with shock. "Are you kidding me?"

No, she's not engaged. But she would be soon if she knew what was good for her. The life she lived here was too dangerous. She'd be safe with Andrew and her family. She'd be better off married to him and forgetting that she ever lived here. It would all work out for her in the end. That's all that mattered.

"I'd rather not talk about it," I slouched into the seat.

"You never want to talk," Sadie said a bit of teasing as she crossed her long legs.

The taxi pulled up in front of her building. I handed the driver some money before we both got out. The cold air greeted me and Sadie was already hugging herself against the frigid wind. I moved to leave but her hand quickly caught the sleeve of my coat and stopped me.

Before I could say anything she had launched herself at me and embraced me tightly. Her sweet perfume and hair hit my nose as she pulled me against her. She let go quickly, however, and took a step back. Her confident, airy smile was back as if it had never left and she looked up at me with blank eyes.

It was a careful facade I'd seen her use for years.

"I'm not going to thank you," She told me but her tone was light. "You were an ass, after all. But still I guess it was pretty nice of you to take me home, even if I had to almost sleep with you to get some sympathy."

I smirked but said nothing. We both knew sympathy was the last thing she wanted from me. We also knew I could never give her any of the other things she did want.

"Well, I'm going to go in before I freeze or get picked up by some man wanting a hooker," She gestured to her tiny outfit and her teeth chattered a bit as she smiled this time. "You need to get out of here too. I know you love staring at me but I have other things to do."

I nodded and moved to leave again.

"Oh! Wait, Butch." She said and suddenly she was no longer confident. She looked down at the sidewalk with a frown and I was reminded of how she acted back in that dark, small room. "Can you please not tell anyone about today? Snake is real good to me and I don't really intend to loose him." Her eyes held hope as she looked back up at me.

She'd be willing to loose him if I'd be willing to take her. She was willing me to make the choice. Her or Bubbles?

There wasn't any competition.

"If you stop with the drugs I won't breathe a word," I gave her a clear ultimatum. She knew I was serious. "You don't want to loose him, right?"

"Right," She smiled sadly.

"Then don't go off and kill yourself," I touched the track marks on her arms. "I won't be there to take you home next time."

"Right," She repeated, her smile faltering.

I began to walk away from the shivering girl when her voice called me back one last time.

"The word with the heroin dealers," she stumbled with embarrassment. "Is that Grant Audley lives over in the old Diablo territory." She called into the chilling wind. "The blue house with the black door. I don't know what number, but I know that's where he is."

I looked back to see her tall, slim figure standing straight and strong against the assaulting wind. Her black hair moved around her thin shoulders and her blue eyes were watching me and reminding all too much of another girl with light blue eyes. My jaw tensed and I blinked.

I walked away again, faster this time. I didn't need to know why Sadie hadn't told Snake that, or even why the dealers had told her. I just needed to find Grant Audley. That's all I needed to do. No more distractions. None. I had to take my revenge. I had to take vengeance for what he did to Bubbles.

She may not be there anymore, but I would do this last thing for her. I'd make sure the man who hurt her paid.

---

"These two dogs will be useful," Ace was saying as he stroked Harper's head. The big dog moved to snap at Ace's fingers and he barely moved his hand away in time. I yanked the dog's chain back so that he couldn't reach the gang leader.

"We'll go to the Fatal Catastrophe," Brick indicated to both Ace and himself. "That's where Farrell and Grant were seen last. With luck they'll still be there, especially now that Farrell doesn't have a home to go back to."

Boomer nudged me.

"If we find him there we'll take Farrell down but make Grant come with us. We can hold him until we can arrange for the rest of his gang show up." Brick sent both me and Ace pointed looks. "No one kill him, you hear me? We have to remember that our biggest problem is the Audley Boys, not Grant Audley himself."

"If Grant is loosing power, why would his gang bother meeting us to get him back?" Boomer asked.

"Because they're foolish and have idiots' pride," Ace grabbed the dogs' chains from me. "They'll want to get their leader back for principle, not because they need him. We need them to be acting foolish. It'll be easier to beat them that way."

"Boomer, you go contact the others and tell them the basic plan," Brick instructed. "We need to have recruits. We're outnumbered by the Audley Boys if it's just us and the Gang Greene Gang. We'll need everyone we have fighting for us. Even if they're not in the fight they need to be in the loop."

"Got it," Boomer moved towards my apartment door, ready to leave. He pulled his beanie down over his head and smiled cheekily at us all. "Later."

And he was gone.

"Butch," Brick's tone drew my attention back to him. "You go look for Grant's house. Find it if you can. If he's there take him down but _don't_ kill him. Look for any list of dealers they owe. It'll be good to know who else we could get on our side."

"Yeah," I pulled a black beanie, the one I usually used when robbing a store, down to my ears. Outside the temperature had dropped even lower and it would probably start snowing soon. I shrugged into my black coat and drew it around me. It was night now, a few hours since I'd talked to Sadie, and I needed to blend into the dark.

"Good luck," Brick tossed me another gun and I slid it into the inside pocket of my coat.

"Lock my door when you leave," I quickly patted Dumas and Harper as I passed them and got to the door. They were growling lowly in their chests and I wondered how Mrs. Anderson had managed to feed them while I'd been gone without getting bitten.

"Good luck Butchy-Boy," Ace's sleazy tone sounded almost normal compared to the stressed sound he'd been talking with for the past two days.

I shut the door and stepped out into the hallway. My eyes fell on Bubbles' door. I closed off any thoughts of her that wanted to push themselves into my head. She wasn't there anymore. She was where she belonged and I needed to remember myself.

No distractions. I couldn't afford that. I needed to focus.

---

The old Diablo territory wasn't very extensive. It was only three blocks and now it was our land anyway. It had a few shops, a drive in diner, and two streets of clustered project housing. I went straight to the slanted houses that lined the street closest to Audley Territory. I shoved my hands into my pockets as my eyes scanned the buildings in the light of the street lamps.

A blue house with a black door. That's what Sadie had said.

I saw a blue house with a red door, a blue house with a chipping green door, a brown house with a black door…but no blue house with a black door. I frowned, irritated. Sadie hadn't lied but maybe she'd heard wrong.

Finally, after about twenty minutes of walking around the street, I began to feel a slight bit discouraged. No blue houses with black doors. This was beginning to feel so pointless. He eluded us every time, that damn coward. I'd never wanted to hurt someone more in my entire life.

"Fuckin' great," I sneered as I kicked a piece of trash.

"Butch?" The voice reached me on the wind and I felt myself grow colder than any weather could have permitted.

"Bubbles?" I asked in a harsh whisper as I whipped around.

There she was, standing in the dark, staring at me with a concerned look in her familiar blue eyes. Her blonde hair was braided back and her gloved hands were holding the lapels of her thick jacket. Her forehead creased as she frowned at me.

"What are you doing here?" I walked towards her quickly and she squeaked in surprise as I pushed her with solid force behind a parked car and squatted down so that we couldn't be seen. She lost her balance as she crouched and I gripped her shoulders to keep her from tipping over onto the curb.

"I came here to stop you," Her white gloves wrapped around my wrists and I could feel the heat of her skin through the cotton. Her blue eyes were wide, cobalt, and troubled as we whispered lowly so as not to be heard by any unwanted listeners.

"How'd you find me?" I shook her shoulders gently as if this would shake some sense into her. What was she thinking? Why was she back? I'd sent her away! I'd made sure she was safe and she'd come back?

"Sadie," She blinked and at this proximity I could still see the swollen side of her face. She had makeup covering the bruise but still the color wasn't exactly right and I could see where she was hurt. I stared at where Grant had hurt her. "I went to the bar, thinking you'd be there and found Sadie instead. She told me you were looking for Grant Audley and that I could probably find you here."

"Why?" I gripped her shoulders tighter, unknowingly drawing her a bit closer so that our knees bumped.

"Because you can't kill him," She told me fiercely. "I won't let you. If you kill him you'll go to jail forever and then what will happen? What would your brothers do without you Butch? What would I…"

She trailed off and the air between us grew thick.

"You called Andrew," She said after a moment, almost as if she just remembered. "You made him pick me up from the hospital and take me back to his house. You tricked me."

"You should have stayed with him," I told her sternly, but we both noticed how my hands hadn't let her go.

"No," She said softly. "I will not stay with him. I won't leave you to get in trouble as I sit back comfortably. I won't leave you, no matter how much you want me to. I don't want you to get hurt. Especially not for me."

"You can't stop this," I told her harshly. "Grant Audley is going to die and I'm going to kill him."

"You can't," Her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes went wide and innocent. How could she still be so innocent? "I won't let you."

"You can't stop me," I said in a cold tone that I hoped chilled her. I needed to make her mad. Angry. She needed to leave again. She needed to be safe. "You should have just stayed with Andrew in your perfect world. That's where you belong. That's where you were meant to be."

Her eyes narrowed and for a moment I thought she had seen through my ruse. I thought she was going to call me out on my lie. I almost wished she would.

"You don't mean that," She said but her tone was pained. "I belong here."

"No, you don't," I snapped. "You don't belong anywhere near here. You're too weak to stay here. You're in danger. That's why I sent you away. I was sick of keeping up with you. I was sick of trying to protect you because you were too stupid to save your own ass." The words kept coming from my mouth and I could see them change her expression but I couldn't stop them. She needed to hear me say this. "You belong with Andrew. _He_ wants you. _I_ don't."

I waited for her to cry or smack me.

"Liar," She said instead. Her tone was stilled and her face was confused. "Why are you lying?"

"I'm not you stupid girl," I let go of her arms and sent her a disapproving look. "I don't want you here. I went through all that trouble to get Andrew to come pick you up. I didn't think you'd wander back like some lovesick teenager."

'_Get mad. Cry. Leave! Please just get out of here before you get hurt again.' _I thought desperately. My temper couldn't handle her getting hurt again. I'd almost lost my mind this last time amongst the dark feel of rage and fury that had filled my stomach and thoughts. I wouldn't be able to calm down until she was safe.

She took a deep breath, watching me strangely as if I had two heads.

"I'm staying," She said slowly. "Whether you want me here or not."

Didn't she understand how hard it was for me to see her hurt? If she stayed she would be in constant danger, especially with the big fight nearing us. I hated the fact that I had practically given her away to another man but if it came to that or her life I'd pick Andrew any day. I'd do anything to keep her safe.

Anything.

"Leave," I said darkly.

"No," she shot back. "If I leave you'll kill Grant Audley. You may not want me here but I can't let you murder someone. I'd never be able to live with myself if I knew I let you get away with that. You'll ruin your own life as well as take someone else's."

He'd tried to kill her. Didn't she remember? Could she honestly care about what happened to him? The look in her eye told me she could. I had to like a nice girl, didn't I?

"You can't stop me," I moved to grab her again but stopped myself. "I'll kill him and I'll enjoy it. There's nothing you can do or say to change my mind. That's who I am."

She bit her lip, considering me with a slight tilt of her head. She heard the truth in my words but with someone as naïve as her I wondered if she understood the severity beneath my tone. Before I could tell her to leave again, however, she stood up and stepped back away from me.

I blinked, startled, and jumped up after her as she started to walk down the street in the direction I'd previously been heading.

"What are you doing now?" I asked with annoyance.

"Looking for Grant Audley's house," She said curtly over her shoulder. Her blue eyes challenged me but I would never hurt her as much as I may have wanted to at that moment. "Blue with a black door, right? That's what Sadie told me. It has to be around here somewhere."

'_What else had Sadie told her?_' I wondered and I could almost feel the marks that Sadie's nails had left behind as they had scraped down my back.

I wondered if Bubbles and I were in a different life, a different world, and we had the chance to be in that situation…would she do the same thing? Would she want me that way like other girls seemed to want me? Would her short, perfect nails dig hungrily against my skin?

I stopped my thought process. It was foolish to think of such things. I had wished once for that relationship with her, but the time for that had passed. I had made my decision and she was better off without me. She was meant for safety and I was meant to lead her to it. I would not think of what I couldn't have, it'd only prove to irritate me more.

"There!" Bubbles caught my hand and tugged me out of my thoughts. The cotton of her pristine gloves stuck to the calluses on my hands and I saw her pointing across the street at a house dimly lit by a nearby streetlight.

Blue with a black door. No lights lit up the windows and I scanned the surrounding stretch. No one was out in the cold air and I narrowed my eyes at the awaited building. Before Bubbles could begin to cross the street, however, I tightened my hand around hers and spun her back to me. Her blue eyes were careful and her lips pressed together.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked and she idly messed with the buttons on her blue coat.

She gave me a mock innocent look. "I'm going with you." She moved to walk again and sent me an irritated look when I wouldn't budge or let her go. "What?" She frowned.

"You're going home," I said stiffly. "Don't try to argue. I'll call Andrew again and-"

"No!" She yanked her hand from mine and it easily slipped from my grasp. "You aren't going to send me away again. I'll go with you to Grant's house. We can talk to him like reasonable adults and stop this stupid fighting. I'm not leaving."

"Talk?" I repeated slowly. "Talking isn't possible right now. We're past talking."

"Well there has to be some other way!" She insisted with a frown. I opened my mouth to argue but she quickly put her fingers over my lips. The fabric was soft and smelled like her clothes detergent—clean and flowery. "I'm going with you no matter what you say. We don't have to talk to him, we can play it your way. But we aren't going to kill him."

I didn't tell her that I wasn't technically supposed to kill him. Instead I just sighed and moved her hand away. Her light blue eyes held mine and I looked away and saw the bruised side of her face again. I scowled and met her eyes.

"This is breaking and entering," I explained to her. "And if he's in there I'm going to have to-"

"Hurt him? I know," She looked back at the house. "But maybe it won't come to that. It doesn't even look like he's home."

She sounded too hopeful and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from yelling at her worried eyes. "You'll be breaking the law," I said in a last attempt to discourage her. If he really wasn't home I couldn't waste my opportunity to get in there and look around. I didn't have time to argue anymore. "You could get caught."

She smiled brilliantly when she realized I had been swayed.

"Then we'll have to be very careful," She said as she turned and began to cross the empty street. "I don't want to wind up in a women's prison with some psycho cell mate."

"Have you ever even been to jail?" I asked her pointedly.

She turned her head over her shoulder to look at me. A single eyebrow rose and her light blue eyes shone with ironic humor. It was a look so uncharacteristic for her that I was momentarily caught off guard. I realized with a bit of shock that she had learned it from me.

"Of course not," She said with a slight roll of her eyes. "But that doesn't mean I'm aiming to try it out."

"Fine," I chuckled despite myself before jogging to catch up with her. "Keep close and do exactly as I say, got it?" She nodded with a pensive expression coming over her. "Good, now be quiet and make sure you can touch my back at all times. Don't go any further away than that."

"Okay," She whispered as we pushed past the chain gate that surrounded the small house. I grabbed my pick from my pocket and began to work on the lock as I felt her hand come up to gently rest on my back. I was oddly reassured by the touch and I made sure I paid attention to the task at hand so as not to miss any signs of danger.

The lock gave way inside and the door swung open. I stuck my arm out to push Bubbles completely behind me as I looked inside. Everything was dark, not a light was on. No sounds could be heard either and I felt safe to assume he wasn't home, just as Bubbles' had guessed.

"Afraid of the dark?" I asked jokingly as we stepped inside. I grabbed the flashlight I'd carried 'just in case' and clicked it on. The beam of light guided us through the small foyer. No furniture stood in the way and I noticed the few pieces he did have were good quality. Just like Ace. Bad house and good furniture.

"Butch," Bubbles whispered as she shook my shoulder. She was pointing to the wall where a framed picture hung. "Who're they?"

I looked at the faded image, my flashlight casting a blue glow over it. It was an old picture of two boys about my age. They both had on jeans with the bottoms cuffed and a white t-shirt. One boy's face, which had been slightly blurred over time, was smiling boyishly at the camera. The slightly older looking boy was scowling despite the cigarette hanging from his lips.

"That's Grant, I think," I said while pointing to the smiling boy. My eyes traced the other one, trying to recognize his features but I couldn't. "I've never seen that man before."

"He must have been important," Bubbles' voice came from further off than I expected and I turned to realize she had moved on down the hall. I sighed and went after her. She was squinting down at some pictures on top of an alcove. They were dusty and cluttered and I shined the light across their frames. "Look, he's in a few more of these pictures."

I looked to see the scowling boy again. He was in about five more pictures, all accompanied by Grant and a few other people. There were girls with old fashioned clothes and smiles. There were a few of Grant and him working on a car and one where they both were flicking off the camera.

"Grant looks so young in these pictures," Bubbles sounded awed. "He looks happy too. I never thought the man I met could ever be anything but tired and desperate. I guess there was a time where he was a lot…" She trailed off but I knew what she was going to say.

The images looked a lot like me. Grant was young and powerful in these pictures, not at all like the fallen leader he was now. His smile, however, reminded me more of Boomer than of me. The scowling boy was more like me. That thought stopped me and I looked closer at the scowling boy and noted the similarities between him and Grant. Same nose, chin, hair…

"I think they're brothers," I said and I felt Bubbles eyes turn to me.

"Grant has a brother?" She asked.

"No," I said slowly. "At least not anymore."

"Did he die?" She wondered out loud and her eyes looked back at the pictures again.

"It doesn't matter," I said sharply. I didn't want to think of Grant having a brother. That made him seem too much like me and he was _nothing_ like me. I was not weak like him. I wouldn't have let my gang fall to the wayside. I wouldn't have let a brother die.

"Come on," Bubbles voice was gentle as she urged me one. "Let's hurry up."

"Fine," I muttered before looking away from the pictures and frowning. "Let's go upstairs. If there's anything here it will most likely be upstairs."

Our footsteps were soft against the wooden stairs but still they somehow echoed in the empty home. I scanned everything around us, trying to memorize the layout in case I had to get us out of there quick and didn't have the option of using my flashlight. There was a bathroom, a bedroom, another bedroom, and an office.

"I'll look in the bedroom, you look in the office," Bubbles said as she let go of the back of my shirt.

"No," I said sharply and grabbed her back towards me. "Don't go off by yourself. Besides, do you even know what you're looking for?"

"Important documents or dirt on him," She muttered sarcastically. "Come on, Butch, we need to hurry up. He could get home any minute and I don't want to go to jail. Please, let's split up and save some time. It makes sense and you know it. I can-"

"Fine," I cut her off and let go of her. She smiled as I shoved the flashlight in her hand. I only had one and she was more likely to trip in the dark and fall down the stairs than me. "But be quiet and if you hear anything cut the flashlight off and hide."

"Okay," She said before we both separated.

---

Moonlight filled the office and was the only light by which I could see.

I shifted through the mess of papers on the table in Grant's office. He had letters, messages, and notes which were useless after a second glance. He had been more careful than Farrell to discard of all his important documents and even his wastebasket was empty. I flipped over a pile of books, grabbing one and leafing through the papers to see if he had hid anything between the pages.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

I sighed and strained my ears to listen for Bubbles. I could hear her shuffle in the bedroom across the hall and wondered if she was having better luck than me. If I hadn't seen the young picture of Grant in the foyer I would have wondered if this was even his house. Bubbles could have been ransacking some random person's bedroom.

This was pointless. There was nothing here. I moved to go get Bubbles but as I walked the wooden floorboard beneath my foot shifted and I stopped. I moved my foot again and watched as the board creaked and slid slightly away from the others. With a frown I kneeled down and pried the piece up and was shocked as it moved easily as if it had been moved numerous times before.

The silver light of the moon illuminated the dark space and my eyes widened at the sight of what laid beneath the floor. Money. Wads and wads of money. It piled up and spread out past what my sight could catch. Some was dusty and some looked as if it recently had been placed there. My fingers grabbed one of the wads and I flipped through it.

It was all one-hundred dollar bills, nearly as thick as my fist. Every other stack I picked up was the same. I looked close at the edges, felt the slightly raised ink, and recognized that the bills must be real. Quickly I pulled up another floorboard and saw that the stack continued. Millions of dollars must have lain below my feet.

Where the hell had he gotten all this money? And why was his gang in debt if he had all of it?

"He said to grab the bag in his room and meet back with him," A distinct male voice startled me.

I could hear two sets of feet walking up the steps. I swore low and slid the two slats of wood back in place before moving towards the door and peering out. Two men were stepping towards Grant's bedroom. His gang members, obviously. I hadn't even heard anyone come in.

"Why couldn't he come get the bag himself?" The other man grumbled. "Lazy old man."

They both laughed and disappeared into the bedroom. My blood seemed to freeze in my veins.

_Bubbles_.

I moved soundlessly across the hall, my gun now in my hand and my body tensed. I pushed my back against the wall and listened closely but it didn't sound as if they'd seen her. They were still complaining about their errand and I couldn't see the glow of the flashlight. She must have heard them coming and hid.

If they found her…no, they wouldn't find her. I swallowed and moved to slip into the room, my gun outstretched and my knuckles white. The two men had their backs to me as they searched through the closet. Without pause I flipped the gun over in my hand and rammed it against the back of one's neck. He slumped, unconscious, and the other let out a startled sound before I pistol whipped him across the face.

With them disposed of I let myself relax briefly before looking around for Bubbles. The slight rustle beneath the bed gave me pause and I crouched down and looked underneath. Bubbles was laying flat and had scooted further away from me. Our eyes met and I felt my stomach churn at the look of fear that tinged her blue irises.

"Come on," I said gruffly. "We have to go before they wake up. Unless, of course, you'd prefer me to kill them."

She said nothing.

"I'm joking," I sighed as my black hair fell into my eyes and I leaned further over to see her.

"Well it's not funny," She pouted and I stuck my hand beneath the bed for her to grab. She did so without hesitation and I pulled her out and helped her stand up. Her hands were shaking slightly as she dusted off her coat and I frowned.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" I asked.

"No, I'm fine," She shook her head and her eyes fell onto the two men. "Who are they?"

"It doesn't matter," I urged. "Come one we have to go."

"They're bleeding," She was still staring at the man whose face was now covered in a film of blood. "We should call an ambulance or something. We can't just leave them here if they're unconscious. They could be dying. They could-"

"You asked to come with me," I grabbed her chin and made her look at me. "You knew this would be dangerous."

Her expression was torn between looking like she wanted to cry and looking like she wanted to haul off and smack me.

"You've seen me hurt people before," I reminded her and my thumb ran against the smooth skin of her cheek and my fingers wove into her braided hair, messing it up slightly.

"I know I just…" She trailed off and blinked back tears. "I was just scared, okay?" I opened my mouth but no words came out. "I was hiding and the whole time I was hiding I couldn't help but think you'd walk through that door and they'd shoot you. I kept remembering Jazz and…and I was so scared they'd hurt you like she was hurt. I was afraid I would be too scared to help you."

"I'm not hurt," I would have pulled her against my chest. I would have stroked her hair and touched her cheek again. I would have but I couldn't. I was too busy trying to comprehend what she had said. She had honestly been scared for me? Me and not herself?

My hand in her hair tightened slightly.

"We should call an ambulance," She said again, her eyes looking back to the men. I realized now that the sight of their blood reminded her too much of Jazz. She may be pretending to be brave for my sake but there was no getting past the haunted look in her eyes.

"Okay," I agreed despite my better judgment. My mind scolded me as I gave into her as always. "We will once we get back to my apartment."

She closed her eyes and let out a relieved breath. She didn't realize how hard it was getting for me to deny her anything. Her safety was the only thing that could make me disagree with her and even that defiance was dangerously close to swaying with my want to keep her near.

"Let's go," She said and we both walked quickly back into the dark hallway. She stumbled into me slightly and I held fast to her arm as I walked towards where I remembered the steps to be. She let me lead her down the stairs, our steps quiet and our lips tight.

At the bottom of the steps she froze and I looked back at her as she tilted her head.

"What was that?" She whispered and she stared at the front door. I frowned and listened closely. Someone was walking up the front steps of the house. Bubbles' hand reached out to push the door open but before she could I snatched her back, pulling her roughly with me into another room.

She screamed in surprise or fear (I didn't know which) but I had already put my hand against her mouth and the sound was muffled against my fingers. We stood in the dark room, unseeing, as we listened to the door open. Bubbles' breath was hot and quick against my hand and she was pulled back against my chest, my arms wrapped around her front. We stood still and silent.

"Hey! Did you find the bag?" The new man yelled up the steps. I could feel Bubbles' body stiffen. "Hey!" The man shouted again when he didn't get a response from the two unconscious men upstairs. "The boss wants the bag now!"

I heard him run upstairs and I took the chance to push Bubbles out and towards the door. She was way ahead of me though and she was already out on the sidewalk by the time I quietly closed the black door behind me. I jumped down the steps, caught her wrist, and together we moved down the street and away from the house.

---

"Go get under a blanket," I instructed Bubbles as we walked into my apartment. She was shivering slightly and her nose and ears were red from the cold. She didn't move towards the couch, however, and instead she slowly removed her gloves with a distracted look on her face.

"I want to talk to you," She began as her eyes met mine. "But first—here…" She grabbed a bag that was hanging from her shoulder. A backpack. I frowned, not having noticed it before. "I grabbed this before those men came in the house. I think it's the bag they were looking for."

I reached out and grabbed the threadbare bag. I pulled it open and looked inside. It had a gun, a small book, some money, a train ticket, and an envelope inside. I pulled out the ticket and read it quick. It was a one-way ride out of town and I felt anger at the thought of the man running away. The book was a journal and I tossed it aside quickly and grabbed the envelope. Inside was a list of all his gang members. Every single one. Names and information.

"I figured it looked pretty important," She smiled softly. "What exactly is it?"

I ran my hand through my hair with irritation.

"It's his backup plan," I sneered. "A ticket out, some money, and a list of all his associates. He's planning on turning them all in to the cops. That means if he gets caught by the police he can probably gain immunity for selling out drug dealers and other criminals." I tossed the envelope back into the bag. "And then no one will go looking for him since they'll all be in the pin."

She blinked. "Well you can't exactly blame him. He's trying for a way to get out. I'm surprised he held on this long."

"Quit taking his side!" I threw the bag onto the couch and stormed into my kitchen. I paced a bit, not quite sure what I was doing in there but not being able to stop my movement.

"I'm not taking his side," She was watching me. "I'm just trying to keep a good perspective on this."

"No, you're just being stupid," I shot back childishly. "You're stupid to think of Grant Audley as anything other than a cowardly bastard and you were stupid to come back here."

"Are we back on this again?" She blew an aggravated breath out of her mouth and cocked her hip. "Fine, I wanted to talk to you about it anyway. Now is a good time."

"Go back," I said coldly.

"I won't," She evenly replied.

"_Please_," my voice was strained and her eyes widened at the unexpected sound.

"You keep trying to push me away," She said, staring soberly up at me. Her blue eyes were so dark in my unlit apartment and they mirrored the black of the sky through the window and shadows around us. "I really wish you would just quit it. This is my home now."

She brushed past me and I caught her arm and gave her a solid pull back. She spun, her braided hair whipping around and settling on her shoulder. Her eyes were locked on mine and her mouth turned down at the edges. I felt like shaking her, rattling her until some sense sunk in.

"If you stay here, you'll get hurt," I said slowly. She obviously didn't understand.

"No shit, Butch," She said as she yanked her arm away from mine. A trace of bitterness had tinted her voice. She gave me a long, hard look before turning around again. "I already have." She said over her shoulder.

"Then why won't you leave?" My head felt heavy and it pounded slightly as I stared at her stiff back. My body felt tired again. The hospital, the fights, the bag…everything made me feel so tired. Jazz had been hurt, Bubbles had been hurt…soon someone else would get hurt and I couldn't be sure who or how bad it would be.

I hated that I actually cared. I hated that she made me care. Not only did I seem to have grown a heart, but now she seemed to practically consume and rule it.

"I'm so mad at you," I heard her whisper in the dark.

"I know," I sighed tiredly.

"I'm not some little girl you can just get rid of when things get rough. You can't just send me back home when you get tired of me," Her cheeks flooded with an angry flush as she turned to me again. "Do you know how humiliating it was for me when Andrew came to pick me up like a child? Do you even understand how small and helpless I felt?"

"Betty-" I raised a hand in defense.

"No!" She cut me off with a quick, stinging slap to my cheek. I stepped back, shocked by the sheer force of her hit. "_My_ _name_ is _Bubbles_. And I am not two years old, I am not defenseless, I am not brainless, and I will not have a man make my choices." Tears welled up in her eyes but did not fall. "Don't you ever treat me like that again. Don't treat me like a kid. And _please_ don't treat me like you hate me when we both know you don't!"

I felt myself begin to get defensive and ready to fight back. Harsh words came to my mouth but I held them back. She was madder than I'd ever seen her and it was all aimed at me. It was all _because_ of me. And as eager as I was to turn it all back on her I knew deep down I deserved her anger. I deserved that smack.

"This is my home now," She said in a quiet, livid whisper. "And no one, not even you, will send me away from it. Don't think I will let you walk all over me. I'm not dirt. I may let you get away will some things because I like you, but don't cross the line Butch. I will not stay down if I get hurt. I am stronger than that."

She shook her head and looked away from me. I could do nothing but stare as her jaw clenched and a single tear streamed down her face. She brushed it away with a shaky hand before clenching it into a fist. Her eyes found mine and held me in a state of hesitation. I should do something. Yell back at her, ignore her, walk away. _Something_.

But I found that all I could do was stare at her and pray to whatever god there was that she calmed down.

She frowned at my silence. "You're such a jerk," she muttered. "Just...stay away from me for a little while, okay?" She requested without a single tremor in her voice and again I said nothing.

The silence was claustrophobic as we both stood there unmoving. Time seemed to still, giving me an opportunity to say something. To apologize. But my cold demeanor I'd always been so happy to have would not yield. Time moved again and I saw her look away.

"Fine," She turned.

She walked away, the door shutting behind her and leaving me alone in the dark of my kitchen. I hung my head, scowling down at my feet. If I was stronger I would have followed her. I would have stopped her from screaming. I would have calmed her down.

If I were stronger I wouldn't have sent her away in the first place.

I would have told her why I acted the way I did. I would have told her how I felt.

But I didn't do any of those things.

I had let her leave. I had been a cowardly bastard.

Maybe I wasn't so different from Grant Audley after all.

Maybe I wasn't so strong after all.

---

_It's okay to be angry and never let go  
It only gets harder the more that you know  
When you get lonely if no one's around  
You know that I'll catch you when you're falling down  
We came together but you left alone  
And I know how it feels to walk out on your own  
Maybe someday I will see you again  
And you'll look me in my eyes and call me your friend_

---

**((A/N)): So…long chapter. Please go easy on me because I really did try really hard. Butch is hard to write because he is **_**so**_** uncaring. But hopefully this chapter shows that he's kind of starting to gain a conscious and heart.**

**And next chapter will backtrack a bit so that we can see what we missed with Bubbles and Andrew as well as Bubbles and Sadie. **

**Oh, and yes I know that this took a while. I'm sorry, but my life never really feels that hectic and dramatic until I realize how long I've been since I've updated last. Hehe. Sorry! It's a bit rough and unchecked (I re-read it twice but I'm not promising perfect) but hopefully legible.**

**So yeah…love ya and please be kind!**


	18. Winter Song

---

_This is my winter song to you.  
The storm is coming soon,  
It rolls in from the sea_

_My voice; a beacon in the night.  
My words will be your light,  
To carry you to me._

---

"Stay here for a minute," Butch was telling me stoically but something was off about the sound of his voice. "I have to do something real quick."

"But-" I began to protest but he stepped away from me before I could finish. His green eyes held mine closely as he backed up.

"I'll be right back," Were the last words he said before he was gone. I blinked, still staring at the space where he had been. The glow of the fluorescent lights against the linoleum floor hurt my eyes and hum of machinery filled my ears. I frowned deeper, feeling suddenly very alone with him gone.

"Snap out of it," I reprimanded myself. "He said he'd be right back."

And why shouldn't I believe him?

I turned and walked back towards the bed where Jazz lay unconscious. My stomach twisted again and I gently touched her cheek. It was warm which I considered was a good sign. Her chest rose in fell at a slower pace than normal. I grabbed her small hand, seeking some reassurance myself.

The sight of all the wires running into her and the absence of her arm gave me a sick feeling and I wondered if I was going to throw up again. God, why had Butch left? I needed him back here again. I felt his absence like a missing piece of my mind.

"He'll be right back," I told Jazz lightly. I'd seen people talk to hospital patients in movies. Could they really hear you or was that all made up? I secretly hoped Jazz couldn't hear me. I hoped she was sleeping peacefully and painlessly.

I reached around her, careful not to touch the wires, and adjusted her pillow. My fingers nervously stroked her hair again and I felt utterly useless. Tears sprung to my eyes and I walked to the door and looked out into the hall. I didn't see anyone so I slowly shut the door before going back to sit beside Jazz.

"It's just me and you for now. I hope that's okay," A tear spilled down my cheek. It burned a trail against my skin. "How 'bout some girl talk? I haven't really had much of that since I moved to the city. Butch hates to talk and while Mrs. Anderson is nice, she really doesn't have much time to spare. It gets pretty lonely sometimes when you have no one to talk to. Butch pretends to listen but I know I'm really just annoying him." I smiled ironically. "Before I moved here I used to talk with my sisters all the time. We talked about everything. It was so comforting. I've never met anyone else I felt so close to except my sisters."

'_Until I met Butch_…' My mind added silently and I blushed at the thought of my comfort around the boy. I decided to keep that comment to myself. Jazz was much too young to hear talk about boys…even if she couldn't exactly _hear_ me. The young girl in question lay still and unresponsive and I hesitantly reached up to grab her hand again. Her only hand.

"I guess you don't really understand that since you don't have a sister," I blinked and looked over at the wall. "But you do have a brother. That makes you very lucky. He loves you very much." My voice cracked and I forced myself to take a calming breath. "So don-don't you dare die, okay? He couldn't bare it if you did."

Would Ace be angry with me? Surely he would be. I hadn't been able to save his sister and I knew he valued her safety more than most anything. I had a deep suspicion that she was the only thing he put above his gang and reputation.

And I had failed her. My guilt returned tenfold and I let go of the girls hand and fisted mine in my lap. I hadn't been able to keep her from being shot. Her dried blood now stiffened my jeans and shirt and I felt the material grate against my skin. If I had been stronger I could have saved her.

Butch was right, I had been stupid.

Who went into an alley in the middle of the night? Why wasn't I thinking before I acted?

Speaking of that jerk, where was he? I lifted my head and looked back at the closed door. What had he gone to do? I wondered if he had to go to the bathroom or talk to Ace. Surely Ace had to be around her somewhere, right? Either way it looked like I'd be waiting a while.

I sighed and leaned my elbows against the side of Jazz's bed. I rested my chin in my hand and blinked tiredly at the wall. The sound of the heart monitor had an oddly lulling affect on my and I suddenly felt exhausted. The fight, the blow to the head, the heated talk with Butch…it all started to take its toll on me and I felt my eyes droop a bit.

"I should go find Butch," I told Jazz worriedly but already I was folding my arms and resting my cheek against them. "After I close my eyes…just for a second…"

Sleep hit me like a ton of bricks and I slipped away into the darkness, the sound of a gunshot and the low rumble of Butch's voice floating in the mists of sleep.

'_I'll be right back_…' His voice was telling me. Liar! He'd been lying to me. His green eyes hadn't focused right and his jaw had clenched just a bit too much. He'd been lying. My mind tried to comprehend this but already I was too asleep to fully understand.

---

"Bubbles?" Someone was softly calling my name and a hand was shaking my shoulder.

I groaned in protest against the person daring to wake me up. Sleep felt so good! I reveled in the darkness, wanting to return to it but the hand kept shaking me. The harsh smell of medicine and the sound of a beeping machine filled my head. I scrunched my face up.

"Bubbles, please wake up," The voice said again and somewhere in the back of my mind a red-flag flew up. I knew that voice. It was male and familiar and I knew it. The man's name flitted across my consciousness for a brief instant but before I could catch it I started drifting off again.

"Sometimes victims go into shock," A woman's voice was explaining. "Sometimes that makes them sleep a lot. And after the night she just had, I'm not surprised she's asleep."

"Well what happened to her?" The voice came again and I struggled to open my eyes but the bright world outside made my temple throb. Where was I? Who was talking?

"Someone mugged her in an alley," The woman replied.

I'd been mugged? Suddenly it all came to me at once. Seeing Jazz disappear in the alley, following her, getting hit, fighting, screaming, the gunshot…

A chill went down my spine.

"Who's the little girl?" The male asked, his hand again on my shoulder but not to shake me. It patted me slightly. The nudging made me sigh. I just wanted to sleep. "And why have you let Bubbles just get up and walk around? She should be in her own room. You should have called her father the moment she came in."

The voice wasn't harsh, just slightly reprimanding. I recognized the polite tone, the feel of the hand, and the tilt of the man's soft baritone. _Andrew_. His cool cologne consumed my nose almost instantly and my eyes flew open. I was still slumped awkwardly against the hospital bed and the shadow of the nurse and Andrew fell over me.

"We're extremely sorry Mr. Bussey," The nurse said nicely, much nicer than she'd ever talked to Butch or his brothers. "We had no idea she was your fiancée. She gave us…another name when she came in. We're sorry for not questioning her further."

I moved to sit up, finding it was past time to make it known that I was awake. My head pulsed as I did and I felt like someone was hitting me with a sledge-hammer. "Uhn," I bit my tongue to keep from letting out a string of Butch-like curses that would undoubtedly astonish both the nurse and Andrew. With slow movements I sat up. My stiff back popped and I literally wanted to chop my head off so that it would quit hurting.

"Bubbles?" Andrew's hand moved away quickly before he settled both of them back down on my shoulders. My eyes squinted as his familiar, concerned face drew close to mine. "How are you feeling? Do you need something? I can-"

"What are you doing here?" I asked and my voice cracked since the sleep still hadn't fully worn off. I blinked into his hazel eyes which were so wide I could see my disheveled appearance in their glint. My heart pounded slightly harder.

Oh my god! What was he doing there? How had he found me? Did my father know I was there? Had he seen my bloody clothes? Had he seen Butch? Had he…

Wait…

"Where's Butch?" I had to shift away from Andrew. He was too close. "Where is he?" I looked around the room but the nurse, Andrew, Jazz, and myself were the only ones there. I noticed the nurse frown disapprovingly at me when she knew Andrew wasn't paying attention.

"That man who stayed at your father's house with you?" My eyes went back to Andrew and I saw him tip his head with a slight frown.

"How did you hear about that?" I felt my breathing pick up. What was going on? How did Andrew get here and where was Butch? My eyes flew to the door, praying the familiar green-eyed boy would walk through it. Andrew's hands on my shoulders made my skin feel itchy and I felt too confused.

"Word spreads," He said simply.

I narrowed my eyes slightly. "Wha-"

"We should leave now," Andrew straightened and was out of my personal space. I let out a relieved breath and my eyes flittered nervously over to where Jazz lay unconsciously. I wanted to reach for her hand but already the nurse was moving towards me. "Come on now, Bubbles." Andrew's voice chided.

Had I woken up in another reality? Hadn't I left him? He understood that, didn't he?

"I'm not leaving," I told him as solidly as I could manage. My head hurt and the room was too bright. What had that nurse said about going into shock? I struggled to remember symptoms of people in shock but couldn't focus. "I don't know why you're here."

"I'm here to take you home," Andrew's voice came to me through the pain of the blinding light and a pair hands-his hands- were grabbing my arm and trying to gently pull me up. A hiss ripped out between my lips as his hands enclosed around the sensitive skin and bruised feel of my arm.

"Let go," I pulled back and tried to step away, not realizing that the chair had got caught up behind my legs. I fumbled and almost fell but his arms caught me and settled me against his chest. The embrace was unexpected and the feel of his arms replayed memories that I'd long since stopped thinking about.

Familiar embraces from a familiar man.

"Bubbles," He sounded hurt by my reaction to his touch and I feebly tried to straighten my legs to stand fully.

"S-sorry," I mumbled, embarrassed and oddly guilty for behaving so rude. He'd just caught me off guard and my mind wasn't exactly moving fast to think about my actions. I'd just reacted to the pain, that's all. "It's just that my arm…is hurt. I didn't remember it until just now."

Sure enough, my skin was tingling where he had gripped me and I remembered my bandaged wound. I remembered how Grant Audley had landed on my arm in the alley. Had that only been a few hours ago? The memory brought on an onslaught of nausea and I heard the gunshot echo in my mind, my eyes flying to Jazz in panic.

"I'm taking you home," Andrew assured me with concern. The nurse was hovering near my side and I blinked against their close faces. Going home sounded really good. I could sleep there. But Andrew wasn't talking about my apartment. I knew that.

"I should look at her arm," The nurse was telling Andrew and I felt her hand grab the sleeve of the jacket I was wearing, intent to take it off.

But Butch had given it to me to wear. He'd be back soon and he'd probably be mad if I let somewhere else take it. He'd probably also be mad if he saw that Andrew was there.

"No," I said but my voice was drowned out by the sound of the door opening.

I looked quickly, expecting Butch to walk through. Expecting his green gaze to find me and for him to understand exactly how I was feeling. He'd know I needed to sleep. He'd know I just wanted to get away from the bright lighting and people. He'd save me. He always did.

But it wasn't Butch. I felt my heart fall to my feet as a large man stood in the doorway. His body seemed to practically fill the room. I realized in an instant who the man was. He was one of the body guards I'd seen around the Bussey estate. He'd accompanied Andrew and me on a few dates where we'd be around a big crowd. I understood why he was there.

I was going to have to save myself.

"You can't make me go back with you!" I shouted at Andrew. His hazel eyes looked affronted and I backed away from him. My heart began to race again, my skin felt extremely slick and clammy. I remembered Grant in the alley. I remembered how he'd tried to make do as he said. I remembered my fear. "I refuse!"

"James," Andrew addressed the large man and a guilty expression donned on his face as he watched me back further away. "Please assist Bubbles to the car."

"Stop it," I grabbed for the nurses arm. "You can't let him do this. I can't be forced to leave. Can't you do something?"

She gave me a look close to pity.

Andrew was rich. He knew every doctor in this hospital. He knew the cops. He could do as he wished. I didn't have a leg to stand on. If Andrew wanted me to leave with him, then it was up to me to refuse. I squared me shoulders, prepared to let him have it. I was sweet normally, sure, but I wasn't going to be a victim. Not again.

"Don't yell," Andrew cut me off before I could begin. "This is a hospital. Show some respect and some decency."

I bit my tongue at his rebuke. I looked back at Jazz and faltered. My eyes moved to appraise the large man. If I could slip by him I could probably outrun him. But was I up for that? My knees felt aching and weak. How far could I run before I passed out?

"You can't make me do this Andrew," I told him coldly. _You can't make me love you_…

His lips tightened and his eyes looked guilty again. I felt no sympathy this time. How dare he do this?

"You're hurt Bubbles," He said softly. "And I won't let you keep living like this."

I breathed in deeply, not understanding why I couldn't calm down. My head was swimming and I was breathing way too quick to be normal. How could I get out of this if I couldn't calm down? I noticed the nurse hover near me, seeming a bit worried. I blinked, dizzy.

"I won't-" I began to protest as I raised my hand to my forehead. My vision blurred unhealthily. "I won't let you treat me like a child."

"Then stop behaving like one," Andrew sighed. "And come home with me. It's where you belong. I thought you would have figured that out by now. I thought…" He trialed off and frowned. "Never mind. We'll talk about this later. James, if you will."

I dodged James' first attempt to grab me. My back, however, hit the wall and I was trapped in the path of the large man. I felt my world blur, twist, and lurch slightly as my head pounded where I'd been struck. My mind felt raging hot as my ears rang. My arm was stinging and my body shook despite the warmth of Butch's coat.

'_Butch_…' Was one of my last coherent thoughts as I was pulled into the arms of the large man. His sharp musk and sweat made my stomach twist with the distinct feeling that I was about to get sick again. He held me like a rag doll and I could do nothing to stop it. I made a pathetic sound low in my throat.

How pathetic I was.

I'd been made a victim twice in one night. Too powerless to stop it and too weak to realize this sooner. And I thought I could save people? I had hoped to be some sort of hero? I couldn't even save myself. I couldn't even fight to stay where I belonged.

"Butch," I whispered while struggling to fight the darkness that tinged the edges of my vision.

In the back of my mind I knew that he wasn't coming back. He'd left me and who could blame him? I was so very weak.

"Oh Butch…" My words trailed off as I played the part of a damsel in distress perfectly—and swooned.

---

"_Bubbles," My father easily caught me as I ran into his arms. He kneeled down on his knees, pushing me back by my shoulders so that he could look into his eyes. "What's wrong?"_

"_I had a really bad dream," I told him as tears overflowed from my eyes and my small body shook horribly. My blonde hair was tied back neatly from my face and the blue nightgown I wore swamped over me. For being five, I was still small for my age and horribly emotional._

_My father smiled softly before straightening up to his full height to tower over me. His hair was still a solid black, not yet peppered with gray hairs and aging, and his white lab coat appeared rumpled. The shadows from the large house around us covered the hallways and marked his face but still I could see his smile._

"_It's okay Bubbles," He told me gently and his large hand reached down to take my own. I slipped my fingers into his and sniffed loudly. "It was only a dream."_

"_But it was really, really bad," I gave him a watery protest. _

"_Hmmm," He hummed softly as he began to lead me back towards the steps I had just come running down. The door to his lab was still open behind him from where he had flown hurriedly out at the sound of my cries. I could hear the hum of machines and the sound of bubbling chemicals from the room._

"_You were still working?" I was able to stop crying with the knowledge that my dad was with me. He was so strong and big and I was safe with him around. _

_His free hand wiped at his eyes tiredly and he chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I've been down there a little long tonight. I didn't realize it was so late." He frowned then and began to lead me up the steps. "I didn't get to tuck you and your sisters in tonight, did I?"_

_I shook my head and concentrated on not falling as I went up the stairs. The stairs were a slick polished wood and my long nightgown was dangerously close to tripping me. My father's strong hand kept me going at a steady pace though and I looked up at him._

"_Come on then," He said quickly. "I'll tuck you in now. Your nanny won't be happy that you didn't stay in bed."_

"_You should go to bed too," I told him with the sternness of a self assured five year old. My sisters and I took our job of looking after our father seriously. _

"_You sound like your mother," He laughed and reached down to pick up my worn stuffed octopus that I had dropped at the top of the steps earlier. He handed it to me and I hugged the comforting object close. "She always told me I worked to hard."_

"_You do," I told him as I swayed a bit. Now that my fear and tears had seemed to slip away, my tiredness consumed me once again and I blinked heavily in the dark. _

_Suddenly my father was lifting me and I happily allowed him to carry me further. My cheek rested against the coarse material of his lab coat and the smell of chemicals filled my mind. My small fingers looped together as I held him around his neck, the stuffed animal lodged in between us. _

_He tucked me into my bed gently. The covers and piles of toys fell around me and he drew the blankets up to my chin. His fingers brushed my forehead lovingly and the bed dipped as he sat down on the edge. With tired eyes I watched him._

"_No more bad dreams, okay?" He prodded. _

"_Okay," I yawned. "No more working, okay?"_

_He laughed again and the sound filled my room. _

"_You're one tough girl," He told me despite the fact that my face was still red and streaked from the tears that I'd just cried. "You're going to give some man hell one day."_

_I frowned at the bad word but nodded._

"_Some lucky man," He laughed and kissed my forehead before standing to leave. "But don't rush it. You can stay five years old forever if you want."_

_I giggled as sleep took me and my father slipped from the room. Some lucky man, huh? Sure, if he could deal with the tears. I doubted any man could best my father._

_---_

I woke up to the dull throb in my head and an aching in my heart. My eyes cracked open warily. Immediately I knew where I was and I groaned. I was in a guestroom in the Bussey Estate, covered in layers of thick silk sheets. The room smelled of jasmine and cleaner and I whimpered as the smell made my stomach lurch.

And in a twist of cruel irony, it seems I was in the same guest room I had stayed in before. The desk in the corner was the one I'd written my goodbye note to Andrew at. The silk sheets were familiar against my skin and the only difference seemed to be the window that was now covered in a thick curtain instead of being open.

I realized a second later that I wasn't alone when a soft voice broke through the haze of pain and irritation.

"Are you awake Miss?" I heard footsteps and soon a maid appeared at the side of the bed. She was small and young. Her eyes nervously watched me as I stared up at her.

"Yeah," My tone was groggy. "What happened?"

"Well Mr. Bussey told me to come look after you," She replied, her smile relaxing a bit as she busied herself with turning on a dim lamp and adjusting the pillow behind my head. "You've been asleep for almost three hours. It's morning now. Are you hungry?"

"Where's Andrew?" I propped myself up on my elbows and to my astonishment, my head didn't swim or anything. I sat up fully, glad that my body was working with me this time. "I need to speak to him right away."

The maid looked at me with an appeasing lift of her lips. "He said that you should join him for breakfast when you wake up. I'll run you a bath so you can wash up first. I have some spare clothes that Mrs. Bussey sent for you to borrow. Mr. Bussey Sr. is out of town for the week so you'll be eating with-"

"I don't want to eat breakfast with them," I bit out sourly and then almost instantly cringed. The girl had brown eyes that reminded me too much of Jazz. I really just wanted her to leave before I grew any more upset. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude to you. I'll get a bath on my own and find Andrew, thank you."

"Alright," She frowned. She had been instructed to help me but she didn't want to argue with me either. After a short debate with herself, she decided to leave me to my own devices. I thanked her as she left, hoping she didn't think me too strange or rude. Wishful thinking.

I slid from the bed and walked towards the bathroom. I had been changed, probably by the maid, into a long nightgown. I wore no undergarments and as I looked around I couldn't see any of my clothes. They must have thrown them out. They had been so caked in blood I couldn't exactly blame them.

With a sigh I filled the tub, figuring if I had to talk with Andrew I might as well be clean for it. Dried blood and grime was still coating my skin despite my changed clothes and my hair felt stiff with dirt. The steaming water felt good and my body loosened pleasantly at the feel.

After scrubbing my skin practically raw, I leaned back against the side of the wide tub. My mind, which had been kept carefully blank since awakening, suddenly filled with memories of the past few hours. With a suddenness that shocked me, I collapsed into tears, hugging my knees and letting the tears fall into the murky suds in the bathwater.

Jazz, Ace, Butch…all these people were still back in the city. Who knows what they were going through? And here I was, sitting in a mansion, crying.

But Butch had sent me away. A low, dark thread of resentment tugged at my stomach. He had thrown me aside. Gotten rid of me.

He sent me back to Andrew. All the possessiveness I'd once seen in Butch confused me. He'd told me he liked me. He'd said I was his. He rescued me. Why would he turn away from me? Had he been lying? Had he grown bored of me?

Butch was a man of actions, not words. So when he held me tightly to his chest with a twisting, claiming kiss burning against my lips—I simply assumed that was his way of telling me he wanted me to stay with him. Always. Had I misunderstood?

Whatever the reason was, I couldn't stay with Andrew. I would go back to Butch. I loved him too much to leave him in danger. Weak as I was, I would give my last breath to save him. He needed me. He was a strong fighter, sure, but he was weak in so many other ways. He needed me, just like I needed him. And I wouldn't abandon him, even if he didn't mind abandoning me.

"I love you, you idiot," I cursed him in my solitude. The words echoed against the bathroom walls and I gripped my slick skin tighter, hugging myself despite the tears.

And I did. I loved him. More than anything I just wanted to be near him. I didn't care if that meant I was poor. I didn't care if that meant I was in danger. I just wanted to be close to him. To be away from Butch was like to be stripped from reality. He was like an anchor. I needed him.

In some weird way, he made me stronger. This haunted, angry, violent, unrefined boy was what I'd needed my entire life. I was brave when I was around him. The fearful and fragile girl I used to be lessened in his presence. If I were to ever become stronger, I'd have to be near him. Each day with him helped me grow up.

I loved him.

He was the only man I would ever feel this way for.

This coiling, deep, warm emotion was foreign and weak. But it was love. Real love that wouldn't ebb away. Not matter how much of a jerk he was.

---

"Bubbles," Andrew's mom greeted me with cool eyes. She didn't even bother pretending to smile and I felt my stomach lurch. The woman was still truly frightening. "I'm glad to see you're awake and well."

"Mrs. Bussey," I gave her what I hoped was a pleasant smile but my own awkwardness betrayed me. I was determined not to back down, though. Butch wouldn't back down to these people and neither would I. "Good morning. Sorry to impose on you. I didn't realize I would be staying here."

"It's alright," Andrew said before his mother could reply. He walked to me, his eyes bright and his face refreshed. The hints of stubbornness and irritation that I'd seen at the hospital were gone from his face. He stood before me, changed and grinning. "We never mind you here, darling, you know that. Are you feeling alright?"

"I feel better," I told him, finding it harder to smile as feelings of annoyance surged through me. "Although I told you I didn't want to come here."

He startled, not having expected me to be so blunt. But I was sick of this game. I didn't want to be here, making small talk. Any minute Jazz could be waking up or Butch could be getting hurt and I _needed_ to be there. I belonged there. Not here. Not with Andrew.

"You're safer here," He told me, his hand coming up to gently grab my arm. He was mindful of my injury this time. "Come on and sit down. We can talk while we eat. You must be famished."

I began to let him pull me towards the table. Years of being polite worked against me and the piles of pancakes, waffles, bacon, and eggs on the table smelled amazing. But soon my mind caught up to me and I dug my feet into the ground, refusing to move forward.

"No, I want to go back," I pulled my arm from him and stepped back. The hem of my borrowed skirt almost tripped me but I caught myself on the polished doorframe. I held my head high despite my mishap.

Mrs. Bussey rose an eyebrow as she watched the scene from behind her son.

"Stop this," Andrew told me sternly. His familiar eyes tried to sway me. "Come sit down before you faint again."

"I won't stay here," My voice was firm. "I won't marry you."

Andrew looked as if he had been slapped and something in me cried out to go to him. He had been my fiancé. He was so wonderful, so kind, so loving! How could I hurt him? How could I refuse him? He was perfect. He was patient and sweet. And yet…

_"I like you," Butch said so darkly it was almost a curse. But he was still kissing me, his mouth pressing so hard I knew my lips would bruise. His fingers tangled into my hair and I felt as if he were trying to breathe me in. Trying to keep me there. "I like all of you." The rough pads of his fingers moved to trail along my neck. "And I will be the only man you will __ever__ kiss again." His lips pressed again. "You're mine."_

The memory heated up my cheeks, my stomach, my palms. It hadn't been lust that had made him say that, at least not completely. Butch liked me. He did. He liked every part of me. Weak, annoying, naïve. He liked me and that hadn't been the first time he'd admitted it either.

No, his every kiss was full of stark need. His eyes were dark and claiming each time he met mine. Despite his stoic face, his careless barbs, his cold nature…he'd like me all along. He'd been telling me through actions, not words. I was just too blind to see.

"I'm calling a cab," I told Andrew with a sense of resolve I've never had before. I was assured, confident. "I'm leaving."

I began to walk out into the hall, not quite sure but having an idea of where the front door was. I wanted to storm out dramatically, head held high, but knew I still needed to find a phone somewhere. Oh well, I'd ask someone along the way. Hell, I'd walk if I had to.

"Bubbles!" Andrew was following me, his steps quick to catch up. I stared forward stubbornly. "Bubbles, stop! Would you quit walking?"

"Leave me alone!" I pushed against his hand as he tried to grab for me. My steps never faltered. I was leaving. I was going to go back without his help or influence.

"No," His hard, rigid tone shocked me enough to make me lose my stride for a second. One second seemed to be enough because soon Andrew was gripping my hand, tugging my firmly into his chest. "No, you're not leaving." He told me as his arms came up to circle my shoulders.

His hold wasn't painful but it was firm. I couldn't get away unless I wanted to hurt him and despite everything, I didn't want him to get hurt. It wasn't his fault I'd changed. It truly wasn't. But he needed to let go. His arms were stronger than I expected and his warmth was all around me.

If I tried hard enough, I could pretend he was Butch. He was warm, just like Butch. His heat seeped though his nice dress shirt like waves of fire. His grip was steady, his frame was tall. Just like Butch. If I just pretended a little, I could make believe I was being hugged by Butch.

"I want you to marry me," Andrew whispered into my ear. "I want you to stay."

Words I could only wish Butch would say. Open, honest words. I could accept him, wrap my arms around his waist. I could hiss his neck and let him keep me. I could marry him and be safe and taken care of for the rest of my life. I would never have to worry again.

But he wasn't Butch and no matter how hard he tried he could never take Butch's place.

Andrew smelled of glorious, expensive cologne. It filled my nose and brain. Butch smelled like cool rain, cigarettes, and musk that came from working all day. Andrews hands were soft and gentle. Butch's hands were strong and rough. Andrew was nothing like Butch.

Butch was just…better.

Even without money, morals, goals, or plans Butch was somehow better.

"Let me go Andrew," I said against the smooth material of his shirt. I didn't want to hurt him, but it seemed inevitable. People were always getting hurt. That was simply life. Butch taught me that. "I don't want to marry you."

I would to my best to keep people from getting hurt but sometimes it couldn't be helped.

"Everyone still thinks we're engaged," Andrew held tighter. "Only your family and mine know we called it off. Come on, we can get married in a week, a day, a month…anytime you want. But we _will _get married. We belong together. You know it."

"I love Butch Sawyer," The words floated much easier from my mouth than I expected. They hung in the air both hopeful and hated at the same time. "I love him, not you. Please try to understand that."

"I have money," Andrew protested, his voice almost hoarse as my words cut at him. "That piece of scum can't even afford a set of manners, is that what you want? Do you want to be some bastard's whore? Do you want to be used and treated like shit? You're meant to live in luxury, not in the gutter."

His words formed angry welts against my pride. He was trying to break me. He wanted me to give in but I wouldn't.

"He's not like that," Was all I could grind out between clenched teeth. I wanted to hit Andrew. I wanted to smack him, kick him, yell at him. How dare he insult Butch? He didn't even know him! That wasn't fair. "He's better than that."

_He's better than you._

"He doesn't care about you," Andrew wouldn't give up; his own pride was at risk as well.

This hurt me more than his other words. Butch had left me in the hospital. He hadn't come back. But something in me objected to the idea of an uncaring Butch. He cared. More than anyone else, he cared about me. Even if he left, he cared.

"Andrew, that's enough!" A sharp, terse voice carried through the hall. Soon two elegant hands were prying us apart. "This is unsightly Andrew! You shouldn't maul the girl in the hallway. What would people think if they saw you now?"

Andrew, for all his anger and pride, had the decency to blush as his mother pulled him away. I stepped back further, my eyes locked with Andrews in an angry glare. Never before, even while dating, had Andrew shown so much emotion. He'd always been so lighthearted and placid. His anger was new to me.

"Both of you should be ashamed, causing a scene like this!" She continued and I looked over at the woman who would have been my mother in law. "You're both adults now. Private issues should be talked out and settled, not displayed for the world. This is absurd."

"Sorry mother," Andrew said quickly but even his love for his mother couldn't cut down the annoyance he was feeling for me. "But she can't leave, I can't let her."

"Why not?" I shot out, my fists balled at my side. I wasn't going to hit him, but I sure felt like I could.

"I love you," Andrew told me with the most sincere of faces. I tilted my head and opened my mouth but his mother beat me to it.

"No, my dear, you do not love her," She said in an icy tone. A tone she normally saved for me. Andrew began to object. "Do not argue with me, son. I know you better than anyone. You're too much like your father."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He flushed with embarrassment. I've never seen Andrew and his mother fight. He always agreed fully with what she said. Could they really disagree with each other? And more importantly, could Mrs. Bussey really be on my side about something?

"It means your pride and reputation run you," She sighed, her eyes never straying from her beloved son and I felt forgotten. "We've raised you to do right by society and make a good strong name for yourself. Scandals and broken engagements wouldn't bode well with that plan."

"I love Bubbles," Andrew looked at me as if for support but I looked guiltily away.

For once his mother and I agreed on something.

"No, you don't," She repeated. "You just don't want anyone to know she left you for the city and another man."

He was faltering and I prayed he wouldn't cry. I hated when men cried, it made me feel horrible and useless.

"Andrew," I said softly. Neither one of them looked at me but I didn't care. "You will find someone else. Someone better than me. No one will think worse of you."

In fact, people were undoubtedly going to think nasty things about me.

"He doesn't want you though," Andrew complained while still avoiding my eyes. "He doesn't want you anymore. I do want you."

A cool hand settled on my shoulder before I could respond and Mrs. Bussey began to lead me away. I blinked and hesitated but followed. I turned my head over my shoulder just in time to see Andrew's fists clench and his head hang. His shoulders were shaking gently but I wasn't sure if he was shaking because he was crying or if he was shaking with anger.

"Come now," Mrs. Bussey's cold tone made me face back forward. "The least you can do is look away. No man wants to appear weak. Hold your head high and look ahead. Don't look back. Don't ever look back."

I swallowed and obeyed. She led me silently to the front door and outside I could see the wind rusting and blowing harshly. I was only wearing a simple blouse and a long skirt. Mrs. Bussey was a tall thin woman and the clothes she lent me fit oddly. I'd freeze outside but I didn't care. I just wanted to leave.

"Walk down to the end of the driveway. Outside the gate a town car is waiting for you and the driver will take you anywhere you want to go." She instructed with a practiced air of authority. "A change of clothes is in the back seat, you may have them. You may also have the clothes you are wearing, I don't want them anymore. I'm not fond of wearing clothes other people have worn."

"Um…thank you," I managed to mumble in slight awe. "But how'd you know I was leaving? Didn't Andrew plan on me staying here?"

She looked at me closely, evaluating me. He chin raised and she frowned down at me.

"I always hated you, you know that," She said instead of answering me. I blinked, trying not to feel too insulted. "I thought you were too weak, too brainless, too plain for my son. I hated the idea of you marrying him. He deserved someone stronger."

I didn't cry. I didn't let her words hurt me although it was hard to ignore the sharp rebuke. I didn't care if I wasn't good enough for her son. I didn't want him.

"But now…" She considered me again, her eyes narrowed. "You've changed. Something is different about you. You know how to hold your head up, you know what you want and don't want, and you seem to have grown a backbone. You've become strong, just as I always thought you should be."

I felt my jaw slacken. _What was she going on about?_

"It's slightly ironic," She gave a small, humorless laugh. "That you've now reached my standards for a perfect woman for my son but now you don't want him. You're want I'd want for a daughter-in-law and yet you don't wish to marry my son. In fact, I feel as if you despise him."

"No, no!" I quickly tried to amend myself. "I don't despise-"

"Don't back down, dear," She smiled coldly but this time there was an odd flash of approval in her eyes. "Stand your ground. Go back to where you want to live."

"T-thank you," I mumbled, looking down at my feet. Realizing what I was doing, I instantly raised my chin and tried to appear as serene as the woman before me. "I never meant any offense to your family. I hope nothing is thought ill of your son."

"If anyone speaks ill of my son they'll have to deal with me," She answered shrewdly, ever the protective mother. "Your petty breakup will not tarnish our reputation as much as Andrew believes it will. Rumors and gossip only last for about a year anyway."

I nodded and grabbed for the doorknob. I had the urge to hug Mrs. Bussey but forced myself to resist. She'd probably wither up and die if I tried to hug her. Even if she respected me now, she still didn't _like_ me. My affinity for hugging had to be smothered.

"Thank you," I said again, this time with a warm smile that didn't faze her.

Before everything got messed up somehow, I pulled the door open and stepped out into the chilling wind. I set my shoulders and began to walk before I felt Mrs. Bussey's voice call for me.

"I want you to know that Andrew won't give up on you yet," She warned against the blowing wind. "He feels you belong to him and he won't give you up so easily. His stubborn pride won't yield to your wishes. He's more like his father than he lets on. Who knows what he was planning before that Butch Sawyer called him to pick you up."

I spun, my thoughts centering. "Butch called Andrew to pick me up!?" I had thought the hospital called him because they recognized who I was supposedly engaged to. The fact that Butch had called him almost sent me stumbling.

What. The. _Hell?_

Mrs. Bussey seemed to almost smile at my lack of composure. A quick, unused smile tugged at her painted lips as she held the door open to peer out at me. She didn't respond to my exclamation and outrage. Instead she just tilted her head.

"You remind me of your mother. That's why I knew you would be going back to the city," Her words carried across the wind. "I knew your mother very well growing up. She was a lot like you, kind and sweet."

My former shock fell away for a moment. The cold air seemed to warm.

I was like my mother?

"She invested everything in love. That's why she married your father despite the fact that everyone thought he was a crazy scientist. That's why she still had you and your sisters, despite the fact that she was weak," I wider, almost nostalgic smile spread across to cold woman's face. "That's how I knew you'd be leaving. You wouldn't abandon the man you really loved, no matter how much Andrew begged and pleaded. You're so much like your mother."

I blinked, words and thoughts colliding inside my head. What could I say? Thank you? Thank you so much for telling me I'm like my mother. Thank you for remembering her. Thank you for understanding that I had to leave.

Before I could say anything she had stepped back and the door shut.

I swallowed, feeling immensely more confused than I ever had. With a shiver I turned and made my way towards the gate where a town car was waiting for me.

"I'm coming Butch," I muttered. "You big jerk."

---

I stared up at the hospital before me. Had I only been here last night? I thanked the driver for taking me this long drive into the city and quickly shut the car door. With resolve I entered the building. Jazz would be upstairs still and I had to see her. I had to see her before I could even try to find Butch.

I had to make sure she was alright.

I was wearing a pair of coarse jeans Mrs. Bussey had left in the car for me. There was a sweater, a blue coat, and some white gloves as well. I felt better and warmer in these clothes and didn't even care that I'd had to change in the back of a car to wear them. Slung over my arms was something Mrs. Bussey had saved for me as well.

Butch's jacket.

I don't know how she knew to keep it, but there it was in the back seat when I slid in. It still smelled like him and was stained slightly with blood on the inside. He'd probably have me throw it away, but for now I wanted to keep it. I liked having something of his with me.

"Jazz," I murmured as I slipped into the hospital room. No one had questioned me so I figured it'd be okay to visit the girl. I watched her, laying in the same position as when I'd left her a few hours ago. I touched her head, the heat of here forehead seeping through the material of my gloves.

I knew that fevers were common when wounds weren't treated immediately and I felt worry hit me. Had she caught an infection?

"Don't keep getting sicker," I worried over the girl for a moment. I stroked her hair and adjusted her pillows. I never knew my mother so I wasn't sure exactly how I was supposed to comfort a sick child. So I settled for holding her hand. "Come on honey, wake up."

She lay motionless.

I remembered the first night I was in the city. I remembered alone and hopeful and scared and wondering I was. I was so different then, but somehow the same. I remembered trying to calm myself against the sounds of a foreign world outside my window. I had sung 'Hush, Little Baby'.

My father had always sang that song to me but I supposed mothers did that too, right? In movies mothers would sing lullabies to their kids to show their love. Neither Jazz nor I had mothers. Had anyone ever sang her a lullaby? I doubted the cocky and sly Ace would have been humming Twinkle Twinkle little anything to his sister despite his love.

Hesitantly I began to sing to the girl. My voice was quiet and off tune. It cracked and wasn't steady but by the second verse I had grown slightly more confident. I stared around at the machines, the IV, the white sheets on the bed. What a horrible place to hear your first lullaby.

My eyes fell back on Jazz just as I felt a slight movement against my palm. Her fingers were moving. I smiled widely. My eyes widened as her dark brown orbs opened to meet my gaze. He round, ashen cheeks moved as a bare smile formed on her lips.

"That's a very pretty song," She told me hoarsely.

I blinked as joy reached my every cell and I pulled the girl carefully against me. She didn't fight the embrace and instead buried into my neck. Her small frame relaxed as I unconsciously rocked her gently in my arms. She was awake! She was up and talking and awake!

"Bubbles I can't breathe," She giggled and I smiled and let her lean back against her pillows. "Hi." She looked almost shy under my bright gaze.

"Hi," I squeezed her hand. She hadn't noticed the loss of her other arm yet and I dreaded the realization. But I'd be here for her when she did. She wouldn't be alone.

"Can I see my brother?" She asked hopefully when she suddenly recognized his absence.

"Yes, I'll go find him," I told her softly. "But first I'll go get the nurses. It's a little after lunchtime now, you must be starving." I knew I was. The drive into the city had taken longer than expected and I still hadn't eaten since before last night's adrenaline rush.

"Will you eat with me?" She asked, her brown eyes big and a suddenly sad look filtering through them. "Ace always fixes me soup when I'm sick and eats it with me."

Her unquestioning love for her brother still shocked me. His absence rattled her. He was always there when she was sick, no matter what. She couldn't fathom his absence.

"I'll be right back," I told her with a smile. But unlike Butch when he made me that same promise in that same room—I meant it. "Promise." I made a mental note to see if they could make her some soup as well.

---

"Ace!" I shouted as I practically jogged down the sidewalk, the cold air biting at my face. I saw the tall man stop and look around, trying to find the source of the yell. "Ace!" I called again. It'd been sheer luck that I'd seen him walking on the street and I wasn't letting him slip away.

"Hey," He responded with almost perfect nonchalance as I skidded to a stop before him. I could tell, however, that he was shocked to see me. That meant he knew Butch sent me away. I didn't let that thought bother me, though. I was in a good mood.

"Jazz is awake!" I squealed as I threw my arms around the older man. He shifted his weight to accept the embrace and I felt his arms unconsciously circle me. His mind, however, hadn't caught up with him yet.

"What?" His usually lazy tone was now sharp and low.

"She's awake!" I giggled against the leather jacket that covered his shoulders. "She's up! I was checking on her and while I was there she opened her eyes! I wanted to find you immediately but I stayed and ate with her first. She's resting now, but she wants you to come right away. She's so-"

"Are you serious?" Ace pushed me back by my shoulders to stare at me. His sunglasses hid his eyes but I could feel the weight of his gaze nonetheless.

"Yes," I smiled brightly. "She's okay now. The nurses told me she's recovering amazingly. She's a strong girl."

Before I could blink Ace pulled me into a rough hug, his lips sloppily kissing my cheek and his smile evident.

"Of course she's a strong girl, she's my sister you stupid thing," He spun me in a circle, my feet coming off the ground. I laughed at his childish insult for me and he chuckled as well but for other reasons. "I knew that girl would wake up. She's stubborn like her brother, that's for sure."

"Yes, that's for sure," I repeated, smiling so much my cheeks hurt. "Hurry up and go see her. She's waiting."

Ace set me back on my feet, his arms falling away. I blinked at the sudden shift of his mood. A sleazy smile now marred his face in place of an honest one and his eyebrows furrowed above the rims of his sunglasses. His posture was lazy and uncaring.

Suddenly he was the leader of a gang again. He slipped back into the role easily.

"I have other engagements," He waved his hand. "I'll go see her later."

Was he kidding me? Did he forget that he'd just laughed and spun me around like I weighed a pound? As if I'd missed he joy! I wasn't going to let him back out of this.

"Go see her," I put my hands on my hips. "She's waiting. You know you're anxious to go see her."

"I just told you," Ace smiled at me and I wanted to smack that smile off his face. "I have previous engagements. I'll see her later."

"What could be more important than this, you idiot?!" I shouted, fed up with men for the day. "Go see her you big jerk, or I'll drag you there."

Ace's smile froze in place and his head tilted as if he were looking around. I looked around as well to see a few people stopping in the cold to stare at us. It seems that my audacity to yell at the powerful man hadn't gone unnoticed. Ace seemed to stiffen at the attention.

"You're lucky Butch is so valuable to me, little girl," Ace hissed between his teeth. "I should hit you for yelling at me in front of people. No one shows me that sort of disrespect, especially not rich girls like you."

Somehow I doubted I was the only person to yell at Ace like that. Butch hardly seemed to act different around the man, granted he never yelled at him. But I also doubted Ace was above hitting a girl. In fact, I was pretty sure he'd relish in smacking some reverence into me.

"Well, you are an idiot," I muttered. If I was going to get smacked for this I might as well say what I feel. "Jazz is awake, you should be happy. Why are you acting like it doesn't matter?"

"Because Jazz will be awake whether I'm there or not. If I go now to see her, I'll be losing precious time in finding Grant Audley. If I go later, I can still see her." He stepped closer to me. "Don't think I don't want to go check on her. I do. But I have other responsibilities. Sometimes I have to make the best decision for my gang and the people that fall under their protection. That means bringing down Grant Audley swiftly and violently."

I cringed but stood my ground.

He sighed and relaxed his posture. "So, what're you doing back? I thought you were sent away."

I stiffened and turned my head away from him. "Well, I'm back." I said simply.

He laughed at this. "Of course you are. I didn't expect you to stay away for long." He shoved one hand in his pocket and offered the other out for me to take. "I'm going to meet Butch in a few hours, I have to borrow your two dogs for something and he's watching them."

Dumas and Harper! Crap I completely forgot about them! But Ace said Butch was watching them…

"Wait," I crossed my arms, refusing to accept his hand. "Borrow my puppies? I don't think so! They're not going to be used for some malicious-"

"Hey," Ace cut in with a laugh. "Give me a break. Do you want to come with me to see Butch or not?"

"Um…" I looked down at my feet and shifted. "He actually doesn't know I'm back yet and I'd really appreciate it if you didn't tell him."

"Why not?" He pressed.

"I'm just not ready to see him, that's all." I admitted. I was still so angry, so hurt by the fact that he sent me away that I wasn't quite ready to see him yet. I'd find him later, once I'd calmed down my brain enough.

"Fine," He shrugged. "Crazy kids." He muttered beneath his breath.

I laughed and began to back away from him. "Well…good luck with whatever you guys have planned for later. Please, just try not to get too hurt. Jazz really looks up to you and she needs you to be there for her. I don't want to have to tell her something bad happened to you too."

Ace reached out to cup the side of my face with his wide palm. His sunglasses glinted in the gray light of winter.

"I'll be safe," He told me firmly. "And I'll do my best to keep that boy of yours safe too."

I blushed but nodded. We began to walk away from each other and I headed back toward my apartment.

"Thank you!" His teasing, lazy voice carried to me. "For going to see my sister! I'll tell her you said hey!"

I smiled and shook my head. Crazy old man.

---

As I neared the block of my apartment building a million different scenarios flooded my mind. What if I ran into Butch? What if someone jumped out from an alley and grabbed me? What if I saw Butch? What if I saw Grant Audley?

I kicked a loose pebble.

"Ouch!" A familiar voice complained.

"Oh my gosh! Sadie, I'm so sorry!" I gushed as I jogged towards the girl. She was frowning down at her shin where the pebble had left a nasty red mark but luckily it wasn't bleeding or anything. "I didn't even notice you standing there, I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine," She giggled feebly and I frowned as she struggled to put up that wall of carefree emotion she normally had. An odd blush was on her cheeks and her eyes looked guiltily at the ground, the building, the sky…anything but me. Sadie had been so self-assured to other night, what had changed?

Or at least she pretended to be sure in herself.

"Why are you standing out here, you'll freeze to death!" I smiled worriedly at her. She was hardly wearing anything and was hugging herself tightly. I couldn't feel my nose and ears from the force of the cold, but she must not be able to feel anything.

"This is my apartment building," She gestured to the structure beside us. "I guess I was just daydreaming, I didn't realize how cold it was." I could hear the lie in her voice as she struggled to get a hold of herself. Her eyes met mine for the first time, all traces of guilt gone. "Are you looking for Butch?"

"Oh! Um…" I fumbled with the sudden question. I remembered that Sadie had a certain attraction to Butch and I wasn't sure if this was a subject I wanted to breach with her. "No, actually I was just heading home myself. I wasn't looking for him at all."

"Well you just missed him," She shrugged, gesturing in the opposite direction from where I just came. "He barely turned the corner before you assaulted me with a rock."

"Uh! I did not assault you with anything!" I complained loudly. It was just a pebble! It couldn't even be considered a rock! And besides, it had been an accident. If she hadn't been standing there in the freakin' freezing cold she wouldn't have been hit and—wait.

Wait a minute.

What?!

"Butch was just here?" I smiled, trying to act as if a wrenching pang of jealousy wasn't tearing at my stomach.

Sadie was wearing practically nothing, her eyes had been guilty, her cheeks had been flushed, and…and…and Butch had just left before I came!

"Yeah, he dropped me off," She watched my reaction closely, an airy smile on her face. She was much better at acting than me and I hated it.

"Well then," I bit out as I willed my smile to remain. "Goodbye!" I said with as much cheeriness as possible.

I planned to walk away as if I didn't care. I planned to act as if I didn't want to tackle the girl who had been up to god knows what with the man I loved. I mean, he was mine! She didn't have the right to be dropped off by him! What the heck had they been doing anyway?! I hadn't been gone but for so long and he'd already filled my void?!

"Hey!" Sadie yelled for me. Her tone was friendly, merry, and absolutely fake. I was sure of it. "Come on inside for a minute. I'll fix you something warm to eat."

She just didn't want me to catch up with Butch. That had to be it.

"Come on," She was tugging at my arm now. "We'll both freeze to death soon anyway."

I allowed her to drag me inside, but only because I didn't really want to catch up with Butch anyway. Seeing a sedated look on his face after whatever he'd just done with Sadie would just make me sick. I couldn't handle it. I'd just have to stomach Sadie for now.

---

Sadie's apartment was smaller than mine but decorated a lot cooler. Brightly colored furniture, pillows, cushions and pictures adorned her space and I stared in amazement the designs. Her window was covered with a sheer orange curtain the made the gray light from outside glow neon throughout the apartment.

"Wow," I smiled as she placed some hot tea in front of me. We were sitting Indian style on some cushions on the floor. I wasn't sure if this was a Mediterranean theme or a Feng Shui theme but I liked it nonetheless. "Thanks."

"You don't have to be so polite," She grinned as she sat down with her own mug. She had changed into some really baggy sweatpants and a ratty old sweatshirt. It was the most modest thing I'd ever seen Sadie wear and I liked her better like that. She seemed more real, more herself. "I really don't mind having you here."

An almost awkward silence filled the room as we both sipped on our drinks. We were both thinking about the same thing—Butch. It was sad really, because I thought I could really have been friends with Sadie if not for our common love interest. She wasn't so bad. She was street-smart and funny. I liked that about her.

I could tell that she was lonely too. Despite her sassy ways and boyfriend, the pretty girl before me was lonely. A large part of me felt bad for her. I sympathized, really I did. If I could find someone to be with her, I would. But I just _couldn't_ let her have Butch. I wouldn't back off.

"So…" She looked down at her hands as they held the mug. "You really like him, don't you?"

I didn't pretend to not understand.

"Yeah, I really do," I looked at her downcast eyes. "But it's so new, these feelings I have for him, that it's really fragile. I don't want it to break." She knew that those words were aimed for her.

She laughed softly. "You're dying to ask me what Butch was doing with me, aren't you?"

I flushed and grinned weakly. Was my jealousy so obvious?

"I didn't have money for a cab and I was freezing my cute ass off," She winked at me. "So when Butch saw me he was nice enough to let me share a cab with him. That's all that happened. Besides, I'm dating Snake and I don't want to mess that up."

For some reason I knew she was lying, but I let it pass. What did it matter anyway? She loved Butch, or so she said. I couldn't put it against her if she went for him, even though I really wished she wouldn't. And besides, something about her last statement seemed real.

She really did want to make it work with Snake and relief washed over me at that aspect.

"So…" She tried again and we both giggled embarrassedly at our awkward behavior and stiff conversations. "Did Butch do that?"

She indicated to my eye and I reached up to feel the tender skin of my temple. The bruise had been forgotten but I guess it hadn't faded. How could I have forgotten my own injuries? Had I really been so distracted? Well…duh.

"No!" I shook my head vehemently. "He'd never hurt me! I mean…maybe emotionally but never physically! He gets so weird when he thinks he hurts me and then he closes himself off from me, it's really annoying. Each time he does it I have to work hard to get him to relax again. He treats me like I'm glass, you know? But then he has no qualms totally destroying my emotions like how he sent me…"

I trailed off from my rant before I could finish my sentence. I didn't want to talk about how Butch had called for Andrew to pick me up. Especially not to a girl who might take this a encouragement for her own goal. Not that I could blame her. Butch seemed done with me, but I refused to believe that fully.

"You defended him," She was smiling oddly at me. "That's…surprising."

Was it?

"Well he didn't hurt me," I mumbled. "You shouldn't think so badly of him." _I thought you said you loved him?_

She blinked, looking slightly rattled.

"Of course I think badly of him!" She laughed. "He's a bad person."

"No he's not!" I protested.

"Yes he is!" She laughed harder. "He's cold and cunning and completely merciless."

Well…that was probably true. "But he means well," I fumbled. "He's loyal and he has his own since of honor and…and…"

"He's power hungry, lustful, and cruel," She cut me a bitter smile. "You couldn't understand because he's different with you. He coddles you."

I snorted at that. Butch coddles me? What alternate reality did she live in? "I think you're confused," I shook my head. "Butch is quite harsh with me as well. But he's not a bad as you're describing him to be. You make him sound so-"

"Evil?" She finished for me, her smile now gone and her face carefully blank. "He is evil."

"Why are you saying this?" I snapped, setting my tea on the ground with a loud clank and hot liquid splashed over the brim. "He's not that bad! He's a good man."

She considered me closely, much like Mrs. Bussey had done earlier, and I tried not to fidget beneath her eyes. I didn't like to be sized up and evaluated.

"He's different with you I guess," She looked away as if she wasn't comfortable with what she saw. "It's because he loves you. That must be why he softens his demeanor in your presence."

I wanted to tell her that Butch's demeanor hardly ever softened but instead my mind was frozen at her other statement. "Butch doesn't love me," The words fell into the air, unsure and nervous. "He couldn't…I mean…he wouldn't love me. I just…" I blinked, it was too much wishful thinking. "Butch doesn't love me."

"Well of course he'd never tell you so, but he does," Sadie sat her own tea down much more carefully than I had managed. "I've known Butch for a long time and he's never been so…distracted by someone as he's been with you. That may not mean much when considering other guys, but for Butch to act this way it's serious."

I distracted him?

"Like I've told you before," She shrugged. "I'm jealous."

"Don't be," I said before I could stop myself. "Butch doesn't love me."

"Really?" She tried to sound lighthearted but failed. I felt so bad for her. I couldn't imagine having to look at another girl and tell her that Butch was in love with her.

"Really," I nodded. "He…he actually doesn't even want me anymore. He called up my ex-fiancé and told him to come get me. I don't know if he got sick of how weak I was or how boring or how dumb-"

"You aren't dumb," Sadie frowned. "Trust me, if dumb girls did it for Butch I would have already snagged him. I can play dumb really well. You're just innocent and I think he likes that. And you're not weak and you're not boring. He loves you, trust me."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked, confused.

"You're nice to everyone. It's kind of inspiring," She giggled before sobering up. "And really I guess I'm just glad it's you. If Butch was going to fall for someone and it couldn't be me, I'm just happy it's not some slut that can't string together two coherent sentences."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "That he didn't fall for you."

She tilted her head and smiled a real smile. "The weird thing about you is that I actually think you're telling the truth. You actually hate that I'm sad, don't you?"

I blushed. "No one should be lonely."

"I have Snake," She waved her hand. "I'll make do with him." We both giggled but with little humor.

"He loves you," She told me gently. "He thinks about you at the most inopportune moments," Here she scowled oddly. "He's fiercely protective over you, and he seeks your revenge."

"He hates Grant Audley on his own accord, not because of me," I protested.

"Honey," She reached out to touch my arm. "I've been around these types of men for a long time. Trust me. I've seen unjustified hate before, and that's not what this is. Butch hates Grant Audley because he's a threat to you. I'm willing to guess Butch hates anything that might put you in danger. He may lie to himself and say it's for his gang, but he fights every fight now for you. He fights to keep you safe."

I shook my head. "He sent me away." I said although suddenly the words seemed so pointless.

"Of course he did," She rolled her eyes. "He wants you safe, right?"

I frowned, oddly warmed and startled by that form of reasoning. It made since, of course, but why couldn't he just tell me that! I'd been so humiliated, so wounded at the thought that he'd gotten rid of me. Couldn't he see that I'd rather be hurt than be with any other man but him?

"I have to find him," I said so quickly it took Sadie a second to understand what I'd meant.

"What? Now?" She looked outside to the sky. It would be getting dark soon and I knew the dangers that lurked at night. But I didn't care.

"Yes, now," I told her while almost tripping over myself to stand. She hopped up too, confused. "He's going to do something incredibly stupid, I just know it! He made sure I was out of the way and safe so that he didn't have to worry about me when he went after Grant Audley."

"Yeah, so?" Sadie was struggling to keep up.

"So!?" I grabbed her shoulders. "He's going to kill him! Butch is going to kill Grant Audley and I have to stop him! You were right! That idiot wants to get rid of anything that's dangerous to me but I'm not going to let him be so stupid!"

I stumbled, trying to walk over the cushions to get to the door.

"Wait!" Said caught my arm and spun me towards her. "Hold on, girl! Let's think for a second."

"I can't waste time," I told her hurriedly.

"What makes you think Butch will listen to you anyway?" She frowned. "Sure he loves you, but that boy is still violent. He's going to do what he feels is best for you."

"I know," I nodded. "But he listens to me. I have to try and convince him not to do anything dumb."

If he killed Grand Audley he'd go to jail, and not just for a little while, but for life. I couldn't stand that. I couldn't stand the thought of him being locked away like an animal. He deserved better than that. He'd just never lived any other life than the violent and selfish one he led.

"Okay, okay," She muttered, trying to calm herself down as well as me. She didn't want to see Butch in jail either. "Let's get some makeup on you first."

"What?" I stared at her as if she were crazy.

"Your bruise," She laughed. "I can help you cover it up. I doubt Butch's mood will fair very well if he sees you hurt."

"Right," I mumbled. "Good idea."

"Come on," She pulled me towards her bathroom. "I'll tell you where he might be while I work."

---

"Bubbles, you're such an idiot!" I cursed myself as I fell onto my bed. Dumas and Harper, seemingly returned and healthy, sniffed at my form as I curled into a ball.

I'd found Butch much more easily than I'd expected. He'd been looking for Grant's house like Sadie had told me. He hadn't been exactly happy to see me, but that didn't seem to matter at the time. He was there, right in front of me, and I was too happy to care about his petty arguments.

"You can't stop this," Butch had told me with an almost sullen since of foreboding. "Grant Audley is going to die and I'm going to kill him."

"You can't," I had protested earnestly. If only he could see the other options. "I won't let you."

"You can't stop me," His tone turned so cold that the chill in the air seemed like nothing. "You should have just stayed with Andrew in your perfect world. That's where you belong. That's where you were meant to be."

I hugged my pillow tightly, trying to ignore the way his words echoed mockingly in my mind. But he had been lying, or at least sort of lying. I could see that he didn't mean it as much as he was trying to sound. He didn't want me to leave just as I hadn't wanted to be away.

So then we'd gone together into Grant Audley's house. It'd been scary, to say the least, but I'd put on a brave face for Butch's sake. I didn't want to appear useless. Besides, it helped to be closer to him. It had gone decently well, only a few mishaps, and I had even snagged an important bag before leaving.

I had done well, if I had to say so myself.

But Butch didn't care about that. No, right when we'd gotten back to his apartment we were fighting again. I'd blown up on him! I even smacked him! I had been so angry. So livid, so embarrassed, so confused. I wanted him to be happy that I was back. I wanted him to care.

"Then why won't you leave?" He had asked me. Why wouldn't I leave him alone? The question made me bristle again. That jerk! I didn't leave because I loved him! But I couldn't say that, could I? No I had to haul off and smack the boy. Now he was never going to want me around.

"I hate boys," I muttered as I scratched Dumas behind the ears. If he caught the insult he didn't complain and instead shifted his head so that I could better rub his favorite spot.

Harper, feeling left out on the attention, nudged my side with his cold nose. I shrieked and shied away from him before stroking his back lovingly. The two dogs seemed lulled by my touch and I let them distract me from my raging hopelessness.

"You two are the only boys worth bothering with," I told them with a small smile. "All other males are…are…" I tried to think of profanity that was suitable enough for how I was feeling.

"Are what?" A dark, amused voice asked.

I jumped back so fast that my back hit my wall and my body was huddled on the far end of my bed. My heart seemed to be racing at an unhealthy pace and my blood had turned cold with fear. With wide eyes I looked over to see a familiar form leaning casually against my doorframe.

"Butch!" I snapped, almost teary eyes with fear.

"Sorry," He said without pause. In truth, he did look sorry for scaring me, but that didn't change the fact that he nearly gave me a heart attack. Dumas and Harper ran to him, eager for him to pet them but he kept his hands in his pockets, his eyes glued on me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked shrilly. Had he broke in? "Didn't I just tell you to leave me alone?" My anger from before was replacing my fear.

"I'm not going to leave you alone," He said in a low, cold tone. "I'm not going to leave you alone ever again. Got that?"

We were both quiet. My anger betrayed me and started to dissipate. No! I couldn't forgive him so easily!

"Butch," I looked into his dark, dark green eyes. They were so guarded as if he were ready for me to reject him again. As if he was expecting me to continue yelling and fighting. And in reality I should still be mad but how could I be? I'd never been good at holding grudges.

"I'm sorry," He said again and it felt weird to hear those words from his lips. He still hadn't moved. He wasn't going to come any closer to me until I gave him a hint that I was alright. He didn't want to make me any angrier. He cared! He actually cared!

"What are you sorry for?" I asked and he said nothing. He was solid, unmoving, and secretly unsure. "Are you sorry you scared me? Sorry you fought with me? Sorry you sent me back to Andrew? Sorry that-"

"All of it," He was impassive. "I didn't realize…"

He didn't realize how upset I was. Of course he didn't. He had done what he thought was best, he wasn't used to considering other people's feelings.

"I haven't forgiven you yet," I warned him.

"For what?"

"For any of it," I frowned but he merely nodded. He understood.

He stepped closer now, knowing it was okay. I watched him as he neared my bed, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his shirt. The last of my anger was pushed to the back of my mind for later, for now I felt mollified with the nearness of him. I was still frustrated, angry, mad…but I was home. And I was with Butch.

That was enough to make me calm for the time being.

"I didn't say you could sleep over here," I told him but my voice was much lighter than I'd intended and not at all reprimanding.

"Does your arm still hurt?" He asked and I allowed him to pull back to covers for me. I obeyed his silent command and god under them.

"No," I said honestly. I hadn't been able to focus on my pain anyway. "It feels alright. What about you? When I say you tonight…you looked as if you've been through a few fights. Were you hurt?"

"No," He was suddenly sliding into my bed as well. My whole body stiffened. My heart, which had finally calmed down from the scare he'd given to me, started beating quickly again. The whole bed shifted with his added weight and I could feel his heat although we weren't touching.

"What-what are you doing Butch?" I asked, a blush staining my cheeks and making me feel very, very warm. Was he trying to make a pass at me? Was he kidding? I wasn't exactly over my anger yet and I wasn't in to mood to be pressured for sex! What a jerk! He was so sure that I had forgiven him and was ready to jump into his arms and—

"Go to sleep," He said in his low, commanding tone. "I'll be right here. I'm not leaving."

The possessive undertone of that comment made me swallow. He was lying on the side of the bed that faced the door, blocking me from anyone that might come in. His large, imposing form practically reeked with suppressed…something. Was he really here just to look over me?

That thought made me soften my anger.

_Aw_! He so liked me!

"Fine," I agreed. "But you have to sleep too."

We both shifted under the sheets. I was lying on my back, my hands crossed over my stomach and my head turned slightly towards him. Butch moved to his side, his arm coming up to move me. He touch was hot and firm and I sucked in a breath as I allowed him to adjust me.

Soon I was blushing furiously as I was pulled up against his chest. My own chest was pressed up against the slant of his ribs and I tried my best not to breathe and make him aware of just how close we were. Although I'm sure he knew. His arm was like a band of steel and kept me in place, one of his legs moved to cover my own. He was practically cradling me. Not that I was complaining.

Much.

"Butch!" I protested, mortified. "This is…"

It was indecent. It was presumptuous. It was uncalled for.

It was also incredibly comfortable.

"I should have protected you better," His voice vibrated in his chest and my face, that was pressed into the hallow of his throat, heated at the way his voice made me feel. I loved his voice. I love the low tones of it and how it surrounded me in the dark.

"W-what?" I stuttered. Thought process was failing me. Drastically.

Exactly how much could I blush before I imploded?

"You were alone and Grant hurt you," his grip tightened on me and breathing was a bit harder. But in truth, I had already been struggling to breathe so I couldn't really complain. "I should have been there. I shouldn't have left you alone."

"It's not your fault," I assured him. As mad as I was at her earlier, I wasn't angry with him because I was hurt. That hadn't been his fault. I knew he never meant for me to get hurt.

He chuckled darkly. "It's entirely my fault. I wasn't strong enough."

What? Where was this coming from?

"Butch, what're you talking about?" I pushed my hands against him but he wouldn't let me move. I sighed. "Butch, you can't be with me all the time. I was bound to get hurt eventually. It's not your fault. No matter how strong you are, you can't protect me from everything. No one is that strong."

His voice ghosted near my ear and I knew for a fact that he could feel the shiver he elicited as it ran down my spine. "Quit doubting me. I can protect you. I messed up earlier, but I won't let that happen again. No one will ever touch you again. I swear."

I closed my eyes, my arm wrapping around his tapered, bare waist to make myself more comfortable. It seemed he was beating himself up about this more than I could have guessed. The self loathing in his words was hard to catch but I was so focused on him I had been able to take notice of it.

'_It seems I'm not the only one who need to be comforted tonight_,' I thought.

I knew enough of male pride to know that most men liked to be strong and be recognized as so. Butch was no different. He was hell bent on saving me from any form of pain and my assurance that I was fine wasn't helping. He didn't need my forgiveness and assurance on my past pain. He needed my trust that he could stop any future pain from happening.

"I believe you," I whispered into the firm skin against my lips. His neck moved as he swallowed and our close embrace allowed me to smell the scent that always comforted me. His scent. It was mixed with warm soap that spoke of his shower sometime in the recent past and I relaxed with the scent in my nose.

We lay silent for almost an hour. My mind drifted to other subjects. It was easier to think of confusing moments with Butch nearby. He was like an anchor keeping me from going too far into troubling memories.

"Jazz woke up," I told him after a while. Just in case Ace hadn't told him. Ace hadn't told him I was back so maybe he'd kept that a secret too.

"Really?" Butch shifted so that his chin rested on the top of my head. This was all so oddly comfortable.

"Yeah, I was there when she woke up," I smiled against his neck. "I was so happy."

"Was that before of after…" He trailed off but I understood.

"That was after I came back to the city," We both stiffened with the topic change but I treaded on. "Before Andrew took me away, she was still unconscious. In fact, I was pretty unconscious when he took me as well." I giggled at my own misfortune and only after my giggles subsided did I realize Butch wasn't laughing as well.

"_What_?" The word was hissed angrily through clenched teeth and I cringed.

"I, um, passed out when Andrew tried to take me to his house," I forced another giggled but it died off pathetically. In the wake of Butch's anger I'd forgotten what was so funny about the situation in the first place. "It was kind of embarrassing. This big body guard had to grab me because I was trying to get away and Andrew ordered him to…"

I trailed off. My explanation wasn't exactly subduing Butch. In fact it had quite the opposite effect. His grip on my waist was so tight his fingers would leave marks, no doubt. His breathing was more labored and his jaw that rested against the top of my head was clenched furiously.

"Did that fucking bastard hurt you?" Butch suddenly pushed me from him. I rolled with surprise onto my back as his hands began to touch my head, my arms, my neck, searching in the dark for some nonexistent injury. I shifted under his scrutiny. "Well, did he? Fuck, if that prick so much as looked at your wrong I'm going to cut off his-"

"Butch!" I protested.

"And I'll shove it down his throat," he continued as if he hadn't heard me. Obviously he'd never considered the possibility that Andrew could be dangerous. But luckily for Butch (and Andrew's health apparently) Andrew never hurt me, merely annoyed me. "I'll make him wish he'd never been born-"

"He didn't hurt me, I promise," I told him with no small amount of amusement. Hey sure could get graphic.

"Don't lie," He told me coldly, as if I'd defend Andrew.

"I'm not," I giggled, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck and pull him down. The move made me blush but Butch thought nothing of it and readily accepted my embrace. Soon I was pulled back into my former position, Butch's body practically claiming my bed and my own form as we rested.

"Don't let that guy near you again," He told me tonelessly as I had just begun to hover in between realms of sleep and consciousness. Neither of us mentioned that it had be Butch that had called Andrew in the first place. I was too tired to bring that up. "I don't want him around you."

"Agreed," I muttered sleepily into his neck.

"He's not your fiancé anymore," He told me firmly, as if I was protesting at all.

"I know," I blinked heavily.

"You don't belong to him anymore," He coldly told me. I wanted to tell him that I didn't belong to anyone. I was my own person. But his tight grip on me and our position made it pretty obvious that I would be lying. I belonged to Butch now. Every piece of me.

And he didn't seem too willing to let me go.

"G'ta'leep," I slurred tiredly. My own version of 'Go to sleep'.

"I'm sorry," He muttered against my ear as I finally drifted off, warm and comfortable in the safety of his arms.

We both knew he couldn't always protect me, there would still be danger. But he wasn't going to try his best to break my fall every step of the way. His life had taught him to be unforgiving to anyone who dared cross him. Now his vengeful ways spread to anyone who challenged me as well. My enemies were his enemies. Anyone injury I was dealt was an injury to him.

Butch was so much more that a crush. What we shared somehow stretched far beyond a simple relationship. He was cold and cruel, but I knew there was a place his heart that I had somehow taken over. He was as twisted up in me as I was in him.

No one would ever hurt me again. That's what he had promised me. But we both knew his real meaning.

No one would ever hurt me again and live.

---

"You went through an awful lot of trouble to find me, little girl," Grant Audley was standing before me, somehow drifting out of the shadows. I forced myself not to flinch at the sight of him but it was hard. My temple ached with the memories of what this man could do. A lone gunshot echoed in my mind.

"I have to talk to you," I told him as bravely as I could manage. I was still in my diner uniform from work. My hair was pulled back and freshly cut to my shoulders that morning at a local barber. The barber had been the first person to help me track down Grant. It'd been a strong effort since.

"And what would you have to say to me?" He scowled at me, his tired eyes looking closely at me.

"I want you to leave Butch alone," I told him carefully. "I want this stupid fight to stop. I know you're tired of it too, and it doesn't have to continue. Please, just make everything stop. Leave Butch alone."

Grant sneered. "So this is a matter of love, is it?" He let out a bark of laughter. "Go home little girl, you're in way over your head."

"I'm not going home until you agree to leave him alone," I swallowed my fear. I wouldn't be afraid of this man.

"What makes you think I'll listen to you?" He asked, stepping closer to me and making me almost bolt out of instinct. Ironically my fear kept me from moving. "I should kill you right now and finish what I started a few nights ago."

"A few nights ago you scared me," I told him as calmly as I could. "But you don't scare me anymore."

The thought of losing Butch scared me. The thought of him getting hurt in this stupid fight scared me more than words could describe. If he suddenly weren't there, if he suddenly didn't breathe, didn't move, didn't talk…what would I do? I had to protect him from that. The only way for him to ever be safe was for this to all just stop.

Grant stared at me with a frown. He was older, taller, and much stronger than I could ever be. But if I had to do this in order to help Butch then I would. If facing this man and risking death meant having a chance at freeing Butch…then it had to be done.

I had promised myself long ago, when I first met Butch, that I was going to save him. I wasn't going to break that promise.

"What could you possibly offer me that would make me call of this fucking war?" He asked in a gravelly tone. "It's already begun. I owe too much money to too many people to stop this. My men are scared for their lives of what their debts can lead to. No one is going to back down, girl."

"How much do you owe?" I asked him, my throat oddly tight and my eyes staring evenly at him.

"What?" He asked, his head tilting.

"I asked you how much money you need," I repeated slowly.

He shook his head unhurriedly and turned to leave. "Much more money then you've ever dreamed of, girl."

"If I gave you all the money you needed, would you stop fighting?" I asked him before he could disappear into the cold winter night and to my relief he stopped walking.

He looked over his shoulder at me.

"You have that kind of money?" He asked me.

My father did. "I can get it for you," I told him.

---

_  
__I still believe in summer days.  
The seasons always change  
And life will find a way._

_I'll be your harvester of light  
And send it out tonight  
So we can start again._

_Is love alive?_

---

**Wow, the thing that girl does for love, huh?**

**So obviously Butch didn't tell Bubbles that Grant Audley has the money…he's just hiding from his gang. Heh. Whoops!**

**Next chapter should have A LOT more going on than this one. Sorry if it was unbelievable boring :/ And also sorry for the typos!**

**This chapter was definitely tying up some ends on Bubbles' behalf. I felt the whole Butch/Sadie thing should be brought up in this chapter. Bubbles won't be finding out about their incident because Sadie decided she didn't need to know and of course Butch isn't going to think of it again.**

**Also, Andrew is finally (Finally!) shown slightly more depth than a puddle. He's prick, in case you couldn't figure that one out. But he's a stubborn prick so maybe Butch's concern wasn't too farfetched. **

**Also, next chapter involves a death, a fight, and…well…you'll have to see. It won't be in that order.**

**THANKS FOR READING! Try to be nice if you review! We're drawing close to the end here people!**


	19. Easy Tonight

_You were bound, you were free  
You wear black for me  
You were dark, as dark as night  
You were wrong, yet you were right_

---

I walked into my apartment, my eyes immediately landing on the blonde sitting on my couch. She didn't show any recognition that I'd walked in, her head bowed and her eyes scanning the words of a books she was reading. The book was cradled in her lap as her legs were curled up under her. Her blonde hair was down around her shoulders and seemingly damp from a shower.

"What're you doing here?" I asked her sharply, annoyed with the stupid brat.

She still didn't look up. "I was out of shampoo so I used your shower." Her voice was casual and I was certain she knew how it grated me. The night she came back to the city I'd left a spare key to my apartment on her nightstand and she'd been using it ever since. She knew that wasn't why I was upset.

"Don't fuck with me Bubbles," I bit out. "Why weren't you at the diner when I got there to walk you home?"

Now she did look up at me and I could see a brief flash of panic in her blue eyes before she quickly smiled. A mask. Her face was always so easy to read, I could always tell what she was feeling. This happy mask she'd put on meant she was hiding something. But what?

"I left work early, Vick could have told you that," She tilted her head. "I wanted to get a winter jacket at the corner store and the shop closes a nine."

She was lying and doing a horrible job too. But I just sighed and ran a hand through my hair in frustration. What could she have possibly done that she didn't want me to know about? Her expressive blue eyes were gleaming oddly and I couldn't figure out the source of the guilt and nervousness I saw there.

"I told you not to go anywhere unless I was with you," I muttered coolly.

She took in my anger with a slight sigh. "Butch when will you quit this? I've been back for almost two weeks now and you've barely let me out of your sight since then. I swear you'd take me to the garage with you if I didn't have to pay my rent! I can't take this, you're suffocating me!"

Her cheeks were flushed attractively by the time she finished. I knew she was right. I'd been fiercely overprotective of her since she'd gotten back. Her every movement was under my watch and I did well to gauge who was safe and unsafe for her to be around. She hated what I was doing and complained about it frequently.

Her agitation and wariness of my actions weren't unnoticed. But try as I might I couldn't let her be unprotected. It was irrational to fear for her more than I did for myself but somehow it happened. I hadn't felt fear in so long and now the taste of it left me bitter and unwilling to let her see pain.

"You knew the moment you came back I'd be like this," I told her knowingly. I was cold and possessive. She knew that. But still she'd come back, so this was what she had to come back to. I refused to feel sorry for that.

"I know!" She tossed the book away from her and stood up so that we could go toe to toe. "But at some point you're going to have to let me breathe! I can take care of myself!"

"But I can take care of you better," I told her plainly. It was a fact. She didn't have to agree with me, but that was how it was.

"So take care of me," She looked up into my eyes. "But don't forget that I'm not as weak as you think. I can take care of myself. I can take care of you too."

Her last sentence made me frown. There was a meaning behind it that I couldn't quite catch. The caged secret rose again in her eyes and she wisely ducked her head in hopes that I didn't catch it. I ignored this for now. I had other things to worry about.

"I can't take care of you if I don't know where you are," My reprimand was delivered to the top of her bowed head. I hated when she didn't look at me.

"Sorry," She conceded. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

"I wasn't worried," I growled with slight frustration. She'd make me sound like a fucking pussy if she talked like that.

She giggled and suddenly her blue eyes were looking back at me, amused and smiling. A slight tilt of her head mocked me but I let it slide. It was her after all.

"Sure you weren't," She nodded slowly and I saw her hands clenched at her sides. She was resisting smacking my shoulder playfully and I was relieved. The girl could actually hit hard. Not that I'd ever admit that her swings could draw pain. Sometimes I could almost still feel the smack she'd delivered on my cheek weeks ago and the sting it left behind.

"Annoying," I muttered under my breath as I moved passed her.

She'd abated my initial anger and we both knew that she was one of the very few people to be able to ride out my bad moods without receiving any injuries. The very thought of raising a hand to her made me almost ill. Anything involving her pain seemed to get at me. I felt weak whenever she was hurt. Weak and furious.

"Well I'm safe!" She called to me as I went into the bathroom. It wasn't warm in there so I figured she must've showered right when she'd gotten back. "And you're safe! That's an unusual occurrence for us, maybe we should celebrate."

I felt my shoulders stiffen. She was too naïve to realize the hidden meaning that could be taken from her suggestion. Her idea of celebrating and my idea of celebrating were vastly different. Her idea was something along the lines of ordering pizza (which was rare with our meager funds) and watching my TV. My idea was slightly more explicit and involved a very naked blonde.

But she'd never know that. She was unpracticed in the area of men. I could tell that just from the easy blush that rose on her cheeks whenever she caught my gaze. I didn't even have to add a suggestive comment or a touch and still she'd turn red. Sometimes I thought the hunger in my eyes made her nervous but mostly I knew she wasn't used to the attention of men.

Which was odd, seeing as she had been engaged.

I guess Mr. Bussey hadn't been as interested in the physical aspect of their relationship as most men were opt to explore. I smirked. That or he couldn't get his equipment to work. The sniveling idiot probably couldn't even please himself, let alone a woman.

"So, how about it?" Bubbles' voice cut through my cruelly humored thoughts. She was standing at the doorway to the bathroom, watching as I washed my hands in the sink.

Work always put a layer of grease on my hands which was almost impossible to get rid of. Working hands. Normally I didn't even bother to try to get the grease off until I showered, unless of course I was about to eat. But this time a mixture of blood had joined the grease and stained my hands. I didn't really want Bubbles to see that.

I scrubbed harder, knowing her eyes were watching me but more than likely just my face. Still I couldn't help but hurry. If she saw she'd think I'd been hurt and then she would get all worried. Her worry always made me antsy. I wasn't used to such attention over my health. But then if she discovered it wasn't my blood…

"I'll order a cheese pizza," She had long sense grown used to answering for me when I forgot to talk sometimes. I didn't really mind, seeing as at least then she got her way. My unsocial behavior usually left her less than satisfied when I offered my idea for plans. "So how was work?"

"Fine," One word responses sometimes irritated her and there were times I did it just to see her get mad. Other times it was truly out of habit. I hated having to talk and small talk was agonizingly pointless.

"How's Harper?" She seemed genuinely interested. I cut off the water in the sink and shook my hands dry. She giggled and I let my eyes stray to her smile. "I can't believe I named my dog the same name as him. I hope he doesn't get too offended. It was a slip up."

I said nothing.

"Well, how is he?" There was that irritation I'd known would come. The spoiled blonde hated to be completely ignored for too long. I scowled at her which didn't bode too well with her mood if I had to judge by the way her eyes narrowed. "Did you even go to work today?"

I had to work more with Ace than Harper lately. Grant was still nowhere to be found, all our leads running dry or mistaken. A few odd fights, mostly at bars with small followers of Ace and Audley Boys, needed to be settled as well. Mostly I had to go around to stores, pubs, bars, clubs, stock houses, and such to make sure they remembered who they were working for. Ace wasn't normally violent with his suppliers and people who paid us proceeds, but lately we had to be a little more…forceful in securing our loyalties.

I'd had to pay some pretty brutal visits to some unlucky bastards more than usual. Bubbles had caught on to the sudden increase in violence when she'd seen a particularly bloody shirt of mine on the floor after I'd gotten back from one of my 'visits'.

She'd kept her questions to herself, probably assuming I'd been in stray fights with Audley Boys. But still worry and confusion laced her face whenever she caught sight of evidence I'd been skipping work and roughing up people. She truly cared for my safety and hated that I fought.

"I went to work this morning," I finally answered her question. I felt the weight of her eyes as she scanned me for signs of injuries. Only the red in my knuckles and flecks of blood on my shoes would give anything away.

"I'm going to order the pizza," Was all she said before turning and leaving me to strip down and shower.

She didn't bother asking me what I did with the rest of my day. Somewhere deep down she knew she couldn't handle that truth yet. Her innocent mind was slowly beginning to accept the violent side of me she'd seen so far. My cold anger, cruel words, and dark protectiveness were about as much as she'd been subjected to.

My mind blackened at the thought of her fearing me for all I really did. Cheat, bet, fight, steal. She'd only tasted a bit of that behavior from me. I'd shot a man in the fucking kneecaps after work today, for selling out to the Audley Boys. I'd done it unthinkingly. It was a common punishment.

But if she knew…

I didn't want her to fear me. In time she'd see that I'd never turn that anger onto her. I'd never let her feel even a tinge of the dark cruelty that swam deep beneath my icy exterior. That only leaked of on occasion. I'd keep that hidden from her until I was sure she wouldn't let my vicious tendencies scare her away.

I remembered her blue eyes from when I'd walked in earlier. Secrets lay beneath those blue eyes of hers.

It seemed we both kept something hidden.

---

"Brick stopped by for dinner," Bubbles smiled widely at me as I came out from the bathroom, skin still wet and hair shoved haphazardly out of my eyes. Water dripped down the sloped of my spine as I tried to locate a shirt.

My older brother was standing behind Bubbles but his height allowed him to nod at me from over her head. His red eyes were patient, obviously subdued from having to listen to Bubbles ramble as he waited for me to be done showering. He'd always been more patient with Boomer as well, so Bubbles' tendencies hardly fazed him. Besides, she was cute so it was easier to put up with her.

"What do you need?" I asked him rudely, ignoring Bubbles' scolding look.

"Just checking in," He said plainly. Our eyes met and instantly he knew how my earlier meeting had gone. Good for me, bad for the stupid clerk. Brick relaxed.

"Stay for dinner," Bubbles seemed to be trying to convince him still and probably had been since he'd shown up. She was stubborn, that was for sure.

"Fine, I probably could go for some pizza right now." He smiled charmingly at her before removing his thick leather coat. Bubbles took it and went to put it in the closet. Her quick absence let him step closer to me. "Ace wants to see you tonight."

"When?" I asked with an air of boredom. Really I felt slightly annoyed at losing some sleep. Chasing a cowardly gang leader in some huge goose chase wore me down more than I'd ever admit.

"Midnight," He said just before Bubbles joined us again. His business-like persona melted away as he teasingly grabbed the end of her hair and tugged. "New hair cut?"

She swatted his hand away and smiled, seemingly happy that he noticed. "Yeah, I got it cut this morning." She told him as her fingers messed with her blonde strands that now fell to skim her shoulders. I hadn't noticed she'd gotten it cut but neither of us mentioned this.

"It looks nice," Brick told her while heading towards my fridge for a beer. "You look a little older."

"Good," She looked away from my obvious gaze. Was she mad I hadn't noticed her haircut? Her smile didn't seem too irritated. Maybe she was avoiding my eyes because she'd gotten it cut when she should have been at work. She must've left to get it cut right after I dropped her off that morning. I should be annoyed at her defiance but instead I just sighed.

"Be more careful," I told her in a low tone and she met my eyes briefly. A sweet smile tugged at her lips and she nodded at me.

---

It was a quarter to midnight and I awoke to the sound of my cell phone's alarm vibrating against my floor. With quick but careful movements I reached with my free arm and clicked it off. My other arm was still wrapped around a familiar blonde, holding her as she sprawled against my chest.

It had become a new habit, started by myself the night she'd come back, for us to sleep in each other apartments. In the same bed. The notion wasn't meant to be so…companionable. But that's what it was seeing as we did nothing but _sleep_. Much to my own body's dismay. But still I couldn't ignore how I didn't quite mind the close contact my neighbor and I shared as we slept.

I felt better knowing where she was and sometimes even if we didn't fall asleep touching each other we'd wake up in a tangle of limbs. I blamed my inner conscious. Even asleep my body craved her. I wasn't alone in that area though. She drew to me like a moth to a flame. Her head was forever pillowed by my chest or tucked in my neck.

Even now, only an hour after we'd turned in early for the night, she'd already managed to mold herself to me. My arm was trapped beneath her slight frame as her small nose pressed against the fabric of my shirt. Her hands, small and fragile, clung to my shirt as she slept.

Cold showers were becoming disgustingly frequent.

If it was anyone else but her I'd have to seriously hate myself for not taking her already. But as it is I'd have to wait. Which was fan-fucking-tastic of course.

"Let go," I urged the girl quietly as I tried to untangle her from me. I had to go meet Ace.

"Five more minutes," She mumbled sleepily. What was I, her snooze button?

"Let go Betty," I told her without much patience. I didn't want to jar her but she just wasn't letting go.

"Humsng," She groaned something unintelligible as she rolled away from me to face the other way. Immediately she was back asleep and I slid from the bed and located some real clothes and my coat. She'd brought back my bloody one I'd given to her in the hospital, but I'd obviously had to buy a clean one.

After dressing in the dark I leaned back over the bed where I could barely see the dim outline of the curve of her back, hips, and shoulders under the extra blanket she'd brought over. I pulled it up around her further and she shifted as I unthinkingly pressed a kiss against the curve of her jaw.

"Where are you going?" She slurred her question slightly. Her blue eyes were suddenly open and blinking tiredly up at me.

"I have something I have to take care of," I told her as I sat on the edge of the bed to pull on my shoes. I heard the rustle of blankets and soon her arms were looped around my waist from behind. My stomach muscles tensed and then relaxed with her light hold.

"Stay," Her voice, still husky with sleep, had my mind taking a very lustful turn. She had no idea what she did to me.

"I'll be back to walk you to work," I told her while easily removing her arms from their hold.

"How am I supposed to take care of you if you aren't with me?" She asked and I stilled. It was my same argument I'd used against her.

"Bubbles, I'm stronger than you. I don't need you to protect me," I explained tonelessly.

She made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat. "You're a jerk," She muttered sourly. "You need my protection more than you think."

"Do I?" I didn't know why I was humoring her. In truth I was probably just putting off having to leave. The thought of curling back up around her was much more inviting than it should be.

"I care about you Butch," Her confession, although already known, still left me blank. I never knew how to react to such words. A brief warm feeling always tried to worm its way into my chest but I always pushed it away. "And I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. You'd do the same for me."

Her words felt strange as they hung in the dark. I didn't like the idea of her risking herself for my sake.

"Don't do anything stupid, Bubbles," I said, allowing a hint of threat warningly seep into my voice. "Knowing you, you'll end up killed."

"It'll be worth it to end this stupid fight."

There was no mistaking the foreboding feeling I received at her statement. I gritted my teeth, spinning to glare down at the girl lying in the dark. Her blonde hair, spilled around her in a short halo, gleamed in the dim light of the moon. Her lips were set in a determined line. She meant what she had said. That made me feel even worse.

"Don't be a fool," I told her coldly. "If you die trying to stop this, you'll die in vain. I'll never stop fighting, especially if some asshole kills my girlfriend. You'll only be writing a death wish for anyone who dares to cross my path after you die."

"Girlfriend?" She was suddenly smiling and I caught the flash of her white teeth. She'd got caught on that? "You just called me your girlfriend."

.It was too late to regret my slip of words and besides the happiness that lit up her eyes at the label was enough to make my irritation dissipate slightly.

Ever since she'd come back to the city she'd been slightly different. Her anger with me for sending her away had taken forever to die down. But even after she'd forgiven me her eyes hadn't completely lightened from their dimmed state. Her smile wasn't as wide and her laugh wasn't as easy. I knew she was trying to find it in her to trust me fully.

It seemed my unexpected declaration had amended any of my old mistakes.

"Don't do anything stupid," I told her, ignoring her previous statement in order to address the more serious topic.

"If doing something stupid keeps you from getting hurt, I won't regret it," She sat up and our shoulders bumped. I opened my mouth to rebuke her foolish line of reason and ask her what she meant but she cut me off with a bright smile. "You called me your girlfriend." She changed the subject quickly.

"Well, aren't you?" I asked her bluntly.

Her laugh filled the dark as she threw her arms around my neck. I didn't return the hug but I didn't push her away as she leaned her forehead against my cheek. Her breath fanned against my jaw and the soft press of her hair brushed against my skin. She smelled like my shampoo and something almost bitter sweet and sharp like ginger and honey. Old perfume, flowery and expensive, tinted the smell of her skin from years of being used and absorbed.

"Only if I can tell people you're my boyfriend," She said lightly.

It wasn't that she wanted to show me off, I knew that. But we both had to consider how safe it was for our relationship to be public. Danger was a consequence for any choice. But I figured most people already thought she was my girlfriend anyway. Those who thought otherwise should probably be set straight.

"Tell people whatever you want," I conceded. I had to watch how much I gave into her because I enjoyed it entirely too much. I never felt the need to spoil someone before and I had to quell it constantly when it came to her. I didn't want to be a pushover or appear weak. Keeping a distance from those growing needs were for the best.

"Thanks," She said, almost shyly.

This was a different twist in our path; one I wasn't entirely sure how to handle. But the blonde girl deserved more than what I could ever give to her. A simple label was the least I could do.

'_What wouldn't I do for you_?' My own words that I'd spoken months ago ran through my mind. Had I really been so attached for so long?

"We'll keep it low key," She said as she pressed a shy, hesitant kiss to my cheek. "Our relationship is too new and fragile to be subjected to judgment just yet."

Yes. Yes I had really been attached for much longer then I'd ever thought. I'd been attached, involved, concerned, and mixed up with this girl for a longer period of time then I'd ever dreamed of spending worrying over a girl. It felt as if it'd been forever, as if some part of me had always known there'd one day be her to look after.

A purpose.

She was my purpose.

"We don't have a weak relationship," I told her irritably. I refused to think of being involved with anything 'weak'.

No, the girl beside me was strong in her own, fiercely determined way. A way that shocked me for all its innocence and caring. A way completely different than my own strength. We were both strong though and so was our relationship. Much stronger than either of us realized.

"I have to go," I told her.

Before she could protest I gave her hard, searing kiss and pulled away before I couldn't stop. She sat dazed as I made my quick retreat, the taste of her—honey and cold rain and everything I liked filling my senses as I left the apartment and locked the door. I breathed out a shaky breath once the lock slid in place.

After twenty seconds of debating on going back in there to finish what I'd started, I finally was able to walk away from the door. My coursing blood cooled as I walked further away.

Fuck.

I was going to be late.

---

Ace sat with his back to me at the bar of a local joint. Stale smoke hung in the air and I looked around to see only three other people there. He must've cleared out the place earlier. Usually we kept to back rooms for privacy but I wasn't against him using his power to get us a whole place.

"Late," His slow voice was clearly miffed as I sat at the barstool next to him. He didn't look at me, his head still angled towards the line of glasses over the bar.

"What did you need?" I asked without bending to his anger. I put my elbow up on the bar and hunched my shoulders. I was tired.

"I can't figure out how we haven't fucking found this guy yet," Ace raged slightly with low, menacing tones. I tensed but didn't look over at him. If he took a swing at me I'd be ready but I didn't want to provoke the man. "We've searched every nook and cranny of this side of town. We have men posted at every port, every train station, and every bus stop. If he's planning to make a run for it, we'll know."

I said nothing.

"So why haven't we found him yet?" He gripped his hand into a tight fist.

"Someone must be hiding him," I said with a frown.

"Anyone hiding him would make him pay for their trouble. It can't be another gang member because he can't pull out a wad of cash with them. They still think he's broke and they'll kill him if they find out he's risking their lives to keep the cash," Ace unclenched his hand and waved it as he talked. "So that means Grant is going to need cash in order to stay hidden."

"But if anyone gave him cash we'd know about it," I reasoned. "No one will do that without opening their mouth to either us or the Audley Boys. He wouldn't risk that."

"Then who's giving him money?" Ace scowled. "He's hidden too well for my liking. Today not even a rumor could be found for where he is. If he's getting paid he's just started getting paid and he's taking advantage of it immediately."

I felt my own mind wander slightly. If Grant somehow had access to good money he would get away. With the right amount of cash he'd slip away easily and we'd never see him again. That was why we kept a close eye on his house, knowing he might try to get the money from there but unfortunately the guy knew better than to show his face. We'd taken all the cash from him anyway. It was now sitting in a foreign bank account courtesy of Snake, who was a genius at hacking computers and government systems like banks.

But then who would he get money from? That I couldn't figure out. Maybe an old ally he'd known since his youth. Maybe a crooked businessman that frequented the bad side of the city. But either of those people would be risking their necks if they gave him money, and very few people were willing to die for a cowardly man's sake.

"Why'd you need to see me?" I asked again.

"I wanted to warn you that I may need you more often," He explained. "Some rich bastards from the business district should be questioned and I don't want some amateur to do it. I'll give you a list of names later. Take Boomer along if you want. Just don't kill them. Any other method you need to make them talk if fine."

"Alright," I nodded. This was how we'd first retained our power. Our rise to the top was coated with blood and I'd been slightly foolish to think that momentary peace we'd gained would last. I'd always be fighting. Nothing could stop that.

"Butch," Ace's voice stopped me as I turned to leave.

"Yeah?"

"Find him."

---

"It should snow soon," Bubbles was looking up at the sky now. It was darkened and thick gray clouds had rolled in over the city. The air was frigid and the wind was biting. "The news said the first snow is going to be a big one. I've never been in the city when it snowed."

"It's not that great," I looked back down and focused ahead of us. We'd walk into a pole staring up at the sky like that. "The snowplows clear the streets quick and then the snow gets dirty and icy. It's hell trying to get around."

Bubbles' neck was still tilted back, her blonde hair falling slightly out of its hold as she blinked up at the sky. I resigned myself to watch where she walked. The girl would walk straight into oncoming traffic and not notice.

"I love the snow," She finally looked over at me, smiling. She was almost always smiling. "When I was little my sisters and I would build snow forts and have snow ball fights. Buttercup always won, but that's because she loved the snow the most. I always got too cold and Blossom spent too much time trying to create the perfect snowball."

My memory held moments of freezing snow that came down on my brothers as we sulked purposelessly through the covered city, hungry and cold. But before that, before we were thieves and homeless, before we were orphans being carter from foster home to foster home…I remembered when it snowed and my mother was still alive. We didn't have money for much snow gear but neither did any of the other kids.

Most of the time we had snowball fights with the neighborhood kids or makeshift hockey games although most of us couldn't buy skates. It was fun though. One of the few good memories I had was when I was younger was in the snow.

"Yeah, I like it too," I shoved my hands into my pockets, aware that the bite in the air was making my knuckles ache slightly. I looked over to see Bubbles' nose turning slightly red from the wind. I picked up the pace.

"Don't walk so fast, my feet hurt," She complained but still managed to keep up. Her legs, exposed horribly by her diner uniform, moved in pace with my longer ones. "I just worked all day on my feet. I swear the colder it gets the more people stay for extra meals. No one wants to leave the diner once they get there."

"If it snows they'll close the diner," I told her. "No one is going to walk through fresh snow and ice to get a cup of coffee. Especially an overpriced cup like your boss tends to sell."

She giggled at my cold tone. Her hand came up to rest in the crook of my elbow, the material of her glove sliding against the material of my coat. Her own jacket was pulled tightly around her, a scarf twisted around her neck and up to her chin. I'd have to buy her something later to cover her ears, but that'd be after my paycheck. The damn girl refused to take anything I stole or bought with stolen money.

She had 'morals' or so she said. We both knew her morals had slipped dangerously since meeting me.

"You'll freeze soon," My breath hung in the air. Her legs and her face were too exposed for this weather. She hadn't complained but I couldn't miss the almost blue tint of her lips that had me worried. She shouldn't be out dressed like that in the winter. Stupid girl.

"I'm tired!" She ignored my comment and instead leaned her head comfortably against my shoulder. I ignored the way she leaned against me. She did it almost unconsciously.

"Well you have to eat before you sleep," I looked around us at the people passing by. The faces weren't familiar.

"We should go out to eat," She smiled brightly.

I shook my head. I didn't really like restaurants. "You just said you're tired."

"Fine, we'll go out later," She sighed but her smile was still bright. "Let's just get home now. It's late."

"We can sleep at your place tonight," I told her reasonably. She did have the two mangy dogs that had to be let out and fed in the morning.

A blush that had little to do with the cold stained her cheeks but she nodded at my suggestion. I wished she wouldn't be so nervous with the mere idea of me being near her. We both knew she liked me. What was there to be embarrassed about?

"Did you get into any fights today?" She looked closely at me, trying to change to topic.

"No," I lied easily. She was getting better at being able to tell if I was lying but this time she missed the signs.

"Good," Her smile shook me and I looked away. She looked so relieved and…proud. Almost as if she had done something with the intent to keep me from fighting. A sinking feeling in my stomach told me that she would more than likely do something stupid to stop this war. She'd admitted such as well. I could only pray she hadn't already done something she would regret.

I'd have to keep a closer eye on her.

She was too kind hearted for her own good.

---

"I haven't seen Grant in weeks, I swear," the man before me sunk to his knees, cowering.

"Don't lie," I ordered him coldly, calmly. Blood dripped down his face from the cut on his forehead. I'd thrown him against the side of his car, his head cracking his window. Now he was bleeding everywhere but the cut wasn't so bad.

"I swear!" This time he looked over to Boomer who stood a little to my left. Boomer was notoriously easier to sway but this time he simply looked away, unable to offer the man any reprieve from my wrath. I scowled. It wasn't like I wanted to hurt the bastard.

"Someone has been giving him money," I told the man while crouching down to his level. He flinched away from my voice. "Who?"

"I don't know!" He pushed as far back against his car as he could, his hands scrambling against the freezing concrete of the parking garage floor.

"Tell us what you do know," Boomer suggested as he stepped up. "And maybe you can make it out of this place alive."

"F-fine," The man tried to straighten his spine. "All I know is that a few days ago Grant approached one of my colleagues. He asked for some money and promised he would make it worth his while—you know, drugs and whatnot. My man said no but then changed his mind. When he told Grant that he'd give him money Grant told him that he already had it covered."

"Who gave him the money instead?" I asked.

"Grant never said but I know it wasn't anyone I know." He replied while rubbing his head.

"Are you sure?" Boomer crouched down next to me, flicking his lighter in an almost distracted manner. The man watched the flame click on and off, swallowing thickly.

"I-I really don't know," He assured us. "No one has heard from him since. Whoever gave him money must being laying low. Someone we've never heard of."

---

I neared my apartment, rubbing at my sore neck. Harper had given me hell for not showing up for work lately and I'd had to put in a few extra hours to remain on the pay roll. The old man was extra irritated with everyone lately since he'd almost been caught chopping car parts.

What was worse was that I'd had to send Boomer to go walk Bubbles home.

"I know our deal," Bubbles' voice was tight and I paused outside her door to listen to her talk through the thin wall. Who was she talking to? "Just—just give me a little while, okay? No, I'm not backing out! I just…I just can't come back right now. I know I have to but just give me a little while longer, please."

I manipulated her lock and was inside her apartment within five seconds. She caught sight of me, her posture stiffening and her blue eyes looking away to hide a guilt that lay there. The same guilt she'd been hiding since almost a week ago. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"I have to go, bye." She said into the mouthpiece of her phone, her voice much calmer now.

"Who were you talking to?" I asked her as I watched her lay the phone back on the hook.

"What are you doing back so late?" She asked instead, suddenly all smiles and innocent looks. I scowled. "Boomer walked me back home but I really wished he didn't have to go through all that trouble. It's cold you know, and it's not his responsibility to make sure that-"

"He's my brother, he'll look after you if I say so," I told her absently. I didn't mention that Brick thought less of her being there. He wanted her away and safe but knew that it wasn't likely. She kept coming back. "Now, who were you talking to?"

She frowned and looked away. She was hiding something still, it was glaringly obvious. Whoever she'd been talking to had seemed to be frustrated and had unsettled her. I didn't like how this looked so far. She had probably gotten herself into trouble. Again. And this time she wasn't coming to me for help.

"Just…my father…" She trailed off and her blue eyes only met my gaze for a minute before wandering away. She was lying about something, but I couldn't tell what exactly. Had she really been talking to her father or someone else? Someone much more dangerous.

"You're going back to his house?" I guessed stoically as I tried to connect the pieces to the puzzle.

"Oh! No! Just to visit," She was lying still. I hated the feeling that I couldn't read her. "I agreed to come back and visit him every once and a while but I forgot. He got mad I forgot our deal and made me promise to come soon. That's all."

Her tone earlier had suggested much more than that. It went far beyond a simple disagreement between father and daughter. Again I couldn't help but wonder who she had really been talking to and why she felt the need to lie about it. She was supposed to trust me. She liked me, after all. She…

She liked me and she would do anything to protect me. She had admitted that with her sincere, determined honesty.

"Bubbles," My stomach churned with the slight worry I only ever felt when she was involved. "I need you to be honest with me. Did you borrow money from your dad to lend to Grant Audley?"

The question hung in the air. I waited, tense and ready for whatever answer she would give me. How had I not thought of that sooner? No one had heard of the person giving Grant money because Bubbles was completely off the radar. And if Bubbles had given him her father's money that meant she had to tell her father what was going on.

Which would explain why he'd be arguing with her to come back home.

"No," Bubbles' voice was affronted, as if shocked that I'd guessed that. But her eyes, although slightly panicked, were completely honest as she looked me in the eye. "I did not give Grant Audley my father's money."

She still wasn't telling me something. Her words were too evasive. But she was being honest about one thing. She hadn't done it. My body relaxed. The thought of her meeting with Grant without my protection was too much to bear. She was rash but I hoped she'd have more sense when it came to her own wellbeing.

"Promise me you won't do something like that," I walked to her now, grabbing her stiffened shoulders and settling her against my chest. She leaned her whole weight against me. "I don't want you getting hurt for me."

"Why would you think I gave Grant Audley money?" She seemed curious.

"Someone gave him money so that he could get some protection and maybe even leave town," I explained. She hadn't relaxed in my arms yet. "No one knows who that person is though."

"But that's not a completely bad idea," She pushed her hands against me so that she could lean back. Our eyes met and she looked determined. "I mean, if he had money then maybe he could pay off the drug dealers and people so that he didn't have anymore debt. That would make his men less aggressive and maybe all this fighting would stop."

It wasn't that simple. "If Grant Audley wanted to pay off those people he could have long ago."

"What do you mean?" She asked, her fists clenching my shirt tightly and her eyes suddenly very cautious. I frowned.

"He has tons of cash that he stored at his house. We have it now, but if had wanted to end this he could have done it before now," I felt a low bubble of panic rise in my stomach. My explanation wasn't boding well with the girl in my arms.

She was paler now as if my words had stunned her and scared her all at once.

"Bubbles, what the hell is wrong with you?" I shook her shoulders, suddenly exasperated with her secrets and strange behavior. "I thought you said you didn't give Grant any of your father's money. So it doesn't matter. Whoever is funding him will realize he's being tricked soon enough."

"B-but why would he trick that person?" Her words were unsteady.

"Because he's a selfish bastard," I narrowed my eyes. "What's _wrong_?"

She managed a quick, wide smile that didn't diminish the sudden alarm in her eyes. "Nothing!" Her voice was a bit off. "I just can't believe he'd be so mean as to keep his gang in debt so that he could make extra money. Surely he isn't that bad."

He held her at gun point. He ordered men to kill me. He shot Jazz.

How could she not see how evil that man was?!

I gathered her to me again, this time my arms circled her fully and I brought my lips to her ear. She pressed against me, seeking some form assurance and I was at a loss with how to deal with her. Her truths and lies were mixing and I couldn't understand how to help her. Why couldn't she just tell me what was going on?

"Tell me again," I murmured into her ear, my tone low but carefully soft. "Did you make a deal with your father so that you could get Grant Audley money?"

"No," She repeated against my chest and I could since her honesty.

"Then what's wrong?" I asked, my grip tighter than normal.

"Nothing," She shook her head. "I guess I'm just tired of all this."

"Bubbles, if there is something going on you need to tell me," I warned her. How was I supposed to protect her if she kept secretes?

"I just want you safe, that's all," She wrapped her arms around my waist and sighed.

I frowned against the top of her head but said nothing. She didn't give that money to Grant but somehow she'd been involved, I was sure of it. Her reactions to my words were too strong to be simply looked over. Somehow she'd gotten herself involved and now she was in danger.

It wasn't a good thing to be at the dispense of someone like Grant Audley, especially if he knew your weaknesses. And if she was as willing to protect me as I was her, then she may have already gotten herself in way over her head.

---

"This is crazy!" Bubbles laughed as she held on tightly to my wrist. Little crescent-moon imprints dug into my skin from her nails. "Can you even see Boomer?"

I craned my neck and scanned the crowded club. There was no sight of my brother among the moving bodies but I recognized a few people near the bar. Friends of Ace, no doubt, and they all nodded at me. I frowned when I couldn't find Boomer. He'd said he'd meet us.

"He's probably dancing," Bubbles assured me as she caught my look, an easy smile curving her lips. "Or drinking. You know him."

"Yeah," I agreed as I quit looking around. Drunken idiot.

"Come on," She pulled at my wrist. "Let's dance."

"I don't dance," I told her firmly, adding a glare for good measure.

She just moved in front of me, making me stop. Her bright blue eyes, an almost kaleidoscope in the changing lights from the club, were teasing. The constant push and thrum of bodies and music went to the back of my mind as she twisted her arms around my neck and rose to her toes to kiss me lightly on the lips.

"Dance with me," She commanded in my ear, sounding every bit like she knew how whipped she was making me.

And so we danced.

---

Bubbles was giggling uncontrollably, her body practically bent over and her eyes watering. Her hands held her stomach which probably was aching with the force of her laugh. I watched her though narrowed eyes, my hand out to brace her so that she didn't topple over.

"Quit laughing," I forced out through gritted teeth.

"When you said you don't dance, I…" She busted out laughing again. "I just assumed you didn't like to." Another peal of laughter. "I didn't realize you sucked at it."

My ego was aching.

"Stop," I almost let go of her arm, half-willing to let her fall to the ground.

"You sucked so badly," She hiccupped and I rolled my eyes. "I-I can't believe you can move so well in a fight, but move so badly on the dance floor."

I pulled her up against me firmly so that her breath caught and her laugh froze in her throat. Azure eyes stared up at me, wide and laughing. Tears of mirth streaked her flushed cheeks and I stared heatedly back down at her. Our breath mingled and my grip tightened.

"Don't judge so quickly," I told her as one of my hands slid down her back, my fingers tracking against the slope of her spine. "I could take you back home," I trailed a hot, meaningful kiss against her jaw. "And show you exactly how well I can…_move_."

She burst out laughing again, must to my disappointment.

I sighed as my 'girlfriend' sagged against my chest and giggled into my shirt. My previous attempts to distract and entice her had apparently fallen on deaf ears. She shook uncontrollably and I finally put my arms around her, determined to wait out her hilarity.

"You're so cute," She managed to sigh.

That wasn't exactly the effect I had been going for.

---

"Thanks for taking me out," Bubbles leaned back against the wall. The 'exit' door was nearby so this wall wasn't as packed as others. We could almost hear each other over the pulsing speakers and I tilted my head towards the girl. She was sipping her drink and looking through the crowd.

"Sure," I shrugged and drank my own beer.

Bubbles smoothed down her silk top-like-thing and adjusted her jeans on her hips in a nervous manner. Her hair was pulled back off her face and the hair that fell out around her ears and neck curled from the heat of the room. Her smile was small and distracted as she traced the people nearest to us with hooded eyes.

"What's wrong?" I nudged her with my elbow and she looked up at me, startled.

"Oh…" She blushed slightly and gave me an awkward, nervous look. "It's nothing, really. I guess I was just thinking that I'll really miss it here when I have to go."

"Why would you have to go?" I narrowed my eyes.

Her eyes widened, realizing a slip of the tongue. I waited as she stared at me like she was trying to make a decision. As if she were about to step off a cliff and she wasn't sure what would meet her at the bottom. Finally she sighed and opened her mouth, prepared to tell me when—

"Hey man, do you mind if I dance with your girl?" Some tall, pretty-boy who had no sense of self-preservation came ambling up to us. He was grinning widely and he nodded towards the short blonde beside me. "How about it sweetheart?"

"She's not interested," I told him with a quick, cold glare. "Beat it."

"Maybe she is interested," The guy (who didn't give up, apparently) now looked expectantly at Bubbles. "What do you say? A quick dance."

Bubbles frowned at him and shook her head. Her hand slipped around mine, which until then I hadn't realized had balled into a fist. The touch of her skin relaxed me slightly even as she smiled apologetically up at the idiot before us. Her hand tightened on mine.

"No, thank you," She blushed and I scowled. Her eyes met mine. "My boyfriend's right, I'm just not interested."

The boy stumbled away, not looking too disappointed. I gave Bubbles a wry look.

"I'm just 'your boyfriend' now, huh? I don't get a name?" I mocked her with a serious tone.

"I could call you pudding-pop," She looked up at me earnestly. She giggled as my face twisted into a grimace. She was going to drive me to popping pills, I could tell. "Just kidding! I'll only reserve those names for when you're extra good."

I leaned over to whisper in her ear. "And what if I'm extra bad? What will you call me then?"

This time my words had the desired effect and I could feel her shiver against my side. The heat of her blush warmed my cheek and I grinned with satisfaction. She was so easy to distract.

"Um…well…" She fumbled with embarrassment. She swallowed. "D-don't kid around like that Butch. It's not funny and if someone heard you they might think…"

"Come on," I said, ignoring her last imploring look. She was going to start rambling if I didn't stop her. I grabbed her hand. "Let's step out for a second."

She flushed an even darker red in the dark shades of the club but nodded and let me lead her towards the fire escape. I pushed the heavy metal door and it creaked but opened for us. Outside the air was crisp and frigid and as the heat from the club was cut off with the shutting of the door I felt myself regretting our relocation.

"Wow. Cold." Bubbles seemed to share my mentality and I turned to see her hugging her bare arms to her chest as she leaned against the metal rail.

"We could probably go find a room in the back," I told her. "And warm up."

She shot me a scathing look. "Excuse me, but I think I'd rather freeze than go into a back room and 'warm up'. Those places are probably filthy anyway."

I grinned. I hadn't meant it like that.

"Fine," I sighed. "We'll freeze then."

She relaxed and I leaned back on the rail beside her, facing back towards the building while she faced the alley. We stood in a chilly silence, both thinking of other things. Grant Audley was a constant thought of mine, one that was beginning to irritate me more and more with each moment he wasn't found and killed.

Bubbles had seemed to realize this and had begged me to go out with her, to distract myself.

It wasn't working.

"I do love the city," Bubbles' voice drew me back to reality and I looked over at her. Her face was drawn and almost wistful. A hint of regret seeped into her tone. "Just being here has taught me a lot. I've grown up."

And standing there on the fire escape I'd never felt so far away from someone, even though we were only an inch apart. Her eyes were distant, her frown distracted. The wind teased her hair and I was struck with the sudden fear that if I tried to touch her, my hand would sink through as if she were a ghost. I'd never be able to keep her or have her. She would always be too far away.

She was too good. Too different. I would lose her, just as I'd lost my mother.

And so I pulled her to me, sinking my fingers in her hair and pressing my mouth to her neck to make her moan. I had to assure myself I _could_ touch her. She was still there, even though I felt as if she were somehow slipping away. I held her tighter because I could. Despite my foreboding feeling, I held her.

"Butch," Her tone was breathy and a surge of pride filled me as I traced the column of her throat with my lips. Her skin was soft and the familiar taste of her settled on my tongue. "Butch, w-wait. I-I…"

She trailed off and her hands came up to my shoulders, pushing at me feebly. She couldn't decide whether to push me away or pull me to her and her efforts were varying.

"What?" I asked her darkly as I bit at the underside of her chin.

"I see someone," Her words were confused and mixed with a moan. I frowned and pulled away from her. She stood, flushed and pointing down the fire escape where a shadowed form was hunched against the wall. I squinted in the dark. Was that an animal or a person? Bubbles seemed equally as confused as she whispered. "What is it?"

With a harsh curse I let go of the girl and leaned over the rail of the fire escape, the metal almost searing my skin from the severe cold and the rungs digging into my stomach.

"Boomer!?" I yelled down to the slumped figure.

The air was tense and silent until finally the figure moved and looked up at me, blue eyes catching the light of a nearby streetlamp. My brother grinned and then shuddered as he collapsed against the ground.

---

"Lay him down here," Bubbles quickly pushed a few bundles of clothes, a book, and a remote off my bed as she cleared the spot. I walked slowly towards the bed and let Bubbles help me as I lowered Boomer down to the mattress. My back, stiff from his weight, straightened with relief.

"You should go home and get some sleep," I told her as she pulled a blanket around my brother's unconscious form.

"Are you sure?" She looked up at me and I nodded.

"He's just drunk, not hurt or anything," I assured her.

She smiled and wrinkled her nose. "He does kind of…reek."

"Grain alcohol," I told her while casting a cold look to my brother. "The stuff is sure to get you drunk. He must have bathed in it, judging by the way he smells." Boomer groaned pitifully in his inebriated state and I rolled my eyes. "Idiot."

"Be nice to him," Bubbles gently tucked him in and turned to leave. "He's your brother after all."

How could I forget?

"Lock your door," I told her plainly before she left, giving me a bright flash of teeth and a wink.

I sighed as I was left alone with Boomer. What had he been thinking? Not only could he have frozen to death but he could've been killed by anyone. If someone had seen him besides Bubbles and I…well, too late to think of that now I suppose.

"You never think straight," I told him sourly as I pushed my hair from my eyes and moved to grab the extra pillow. "Brick and I always have to watch your back. I'm tired of saving your ass."

"I know…" Boomer's groggy voice made me stiffen in surprise. I hadn't realized he'd woken up.

I looked over at him and frowned.

"I-I'm always getting in the way," He laughed a bit but the noise was sluggish and he let it trail off. He was staring blankly up at the ceiling, his fingers twitching uselessly at his sides. "I know you can't stand it."

"If you weren't so fucking drunk all the time you'd be fine," I snapped at him.

"I know," He repeated with a grim, self-mocking smile. "I don't even like to drink, did you know that?" It was quiet and I didn't answer. He sighed. "I fucking hate the stuff but I can't stop drinking it. It calms me down. I guess that's why I like it. Even though it's gotten me fired from more jobs and kicked out of too many places to count."

I scowled. Boomer was normally a 'happy' drunk and I wasn't quite sure what to do with this recent development.

"Whatever, just sleep it off," I told me as I clicked off the lamp and let the room go completely black. He wouldn't remember his morbid conversation tomorrow anyway.

It was quiet as I settled in to sleep, the sounds of Boomer breathing the only sign that I wasn't alone. I ignored the twinge in my stomach at the sight of my normally go lucky brother acting like a depressed fool. His moods were his business and it wasn't like it was the first time I'd seen him so utterly loathing.

But that had only been one other time, and that was when…

"Mom died," Boomer unknowingly finished my thoughts. "I think that's when I first drank alcohol. We were so young and new wards to the state and…and I just wanted to be _happy_ again. Happy like when mom was alive. So some other kids at the home snuck in some whisky. God-awful stuff. I've been drinking ever since."

I knew that. I'd been there.

"Just quit thinking Boomer," I told him calmly.

"I can't," He laughed again, rougher this time. "My mind won't stop moving and hurting."

"That's because you drank too much," I sighed. "You could have died, you know? It's freezing outside. If Bubbles hadn't seen you, you would have been left there. By morning you'd be a popsicle and Brick and I would have had to pick your thawing body up at the morgue." I frowned when he just laughed. "This isn't funny Boomer, do you want to die?"

"_Yes_," He sighed almost as if with relief. "I just want to die. I want to get it over with."

"Don't joke like that," I told him coldly. "You aren't going to die." I wouldn't allow that to happen.

"It would be kind of nice…dying." He ignored me, either too drunk or too stubborn to stop. His pensive tone had me stressing. "Imagine it. No more pain, no more fights. Just nothingness. After everything we've been through, I kind of welcome the idea of it. No more being poor, because I don't think money really makes a fucking difference when you're dead."

"If you die you'll leave Brick and me behind," I warned him. "We swore we'd never do that."

"I'm not like you two, Butch," Boomer sighed. "You know that. You've always known that. I can't keep doing this forever. I can't stand it."

I said nothing. Even mom had known Boomer wasn't cut out for the streets. Brick and I were different from him, less soft and caring. But all of this fighting would kill Boomer and I knew it. It was too much for him. Like he'd said, he just wanted to be happy. Fighting wasn't as appealing to him as it was to Brick and me.

"I just…hate it," He laughed and shifted.

"It will be over soon," I told him confidently. "Grant will be out of the picture and then we'll finish off the rest of that gang."

But Boomer wasn't listening to me. He hadn't been listening to me for a long time. "I wish we were young again. Back then it was like nothing bad could ever happen to me. Brick and you were always there and I knew you wouldn't let me get hurt." His voice trialed off into the dark. "But we aren't kids anymore. I know you can't protect me now."

"Boomer, nothing bad is going to happen to you," I clenched my jaw. "I swear. Nothing has changed."

"You can't protect everyone Butch," Boomer sighed. "Eventually something is going to happen to me that even you can't stop."

"That isn't true." It was the same thing Bubbles kept telling me.

I could practically see his wry smile. "When mom was killed we were so young. I can still remember that day in bits and pieces. I remember the cold rain. I remember the sirens. I remember being driven to the police station with Brick, but you weren't there. Where were you?"

"I was still there," I told him despite an odd lump in my throat. "I was there when they put mom's body in the ambulance."

"Were you?" He laughed oddly. Sadly, maybe. It was weird to hear him sad. "Some guy killed her, Butch. Some fucker killed our mother. We were there, we saw her body. We saw her blood get washed away in the rain. We saw her die because of some guy with a gun," I heard him swallow. "And after all these years I can't help but wonder, what makes us so different than him?"

My apartment was silent, my body felt oddly cold and I stared up at the black ceiling above me.

"We're not different than him, don't you see?" Boomer slurred. "We're exactly the same."

I opened my mouth to deny it, but nothing came out.

"God, Butch," He said shakily. "Don't you see why I want to die? Why the hell would I want to live?"

---

"So is Boomer feeling any better?" Bubbles was trying to pull back her hair and walk at the same time. Not an easy task for someone with her since of balance. I already had to grab her twice to stop her from slipping off the curb.

"He's fine," I told her. "Bad hangover."

"Hmm," She nodded sympathetically. "Poor guy."

"So I'll meet you after work," I reminded her as if she wasn't already used to this routine.

"O-kaa-ay," She sung teasingly, smiling up at me brightly. "Be safe alright?" I sent her a look and she grinned. "You've been distracted all morning, Butch. I'm worried about you."

"You're always worried about me," I told her plainly.

"It comes with the territory," She shrugged. A shadow passed over her the blues of her eyes and she looked away. "Just be safe. We've worked too hard to be safe and I don't want to ruin it now."

What?

"What do you mean 'we've worked too hard to be safe'?" I asked her with a cold tone.

She stopped just before the diner and threw her arms around my neck, almost making me take a step back for balance. I sighed but gathered her quickly to me for what I hoped to be a short hug and conversation. People were watching after all.

"Forget it," She told me as she pulled away with another smile. "I'm just in a really weird mood lately. I'm not myself."

That was for sure. I couldn't make heads or tails of what she was thinking. I hadn't been able to understand her for some time. If she hadn't been so adamant I could've sworn it had something to do with Grant Audley but I guess I was wrong. So I just settled for watching her closely in case there was something scaring her that I needed to fix.

"Tell me what's wrong," I commanded emotionlessly. "Let me make it better."

She laughed. "Your version of 'making things better' means fighting and injuries." Her laughter died down and she stared up at me solemnly. Suddenly she reached out and touched my cheek, her cold fingers brushing against my scar as if reassuring herself that she still could still reach me. Just as I'd done the night before. "Stay safe."

And then she was gone. I frowned and watched her move through the diner towards the kitchen, taking off her jacket and waving back at me through the window with a flourish.

---

"People in my life are fucked up," I told Harper as I sat on the hood of a car. It was my lunch break and I was tired.

"Join the club," Harper laughed. "I have _you_ working for me. I take the cake with weird associates."

I rolled my eyes. It was the first lunch I'd had at the shop in a while. I'd been so busy with Ace I was hardly ever there anymore and the old auto parts around me were oddly comforting.

"So, what's been keeping you busy?" Harper asked.

Harper would never sell me out for doing anything illegal. He was trustworthy. I'd known him for about as long as I'd known Ace. But still I couldn't tell him everything. Despite it all, Harper still thought I was going to become an upstanding citizen one day. Leave crime behind and all of that. He was delirious, obviously, but he meant well.

"Bubbles," I decided on saying after a moment. She seemed like the safest topic.

Harper made an understanding sound in the back of his throat as he picked up his burger with greasy hands. "Girls have a way of keeping you busy." He grinned. "In some ways better than others."

I smirked. "Yeah, she's a handful," I shook my head. "Not that she means to be."

We were quiet as we ate, both comfortable with not talking.

"So how long has it been?" Harper finally asked, still not looking at me but I assumed he was referring to me.

"What?" I frowned.

"How long has it been since you realized you love her?" he elaborated. But still…_what_?

"I don't," I told him plainly. Sure I liked her, but love? That was bit too touchy-feely for me.

"Of course you don't," he laughed and shook his head. "You will never admit it, will you? You're too prideful. Too cold for that."

I looked down at my hands, large and dirty and cracked from fights. I glared.

"Poor girl," Harper sighed as he wiped his hands on his pants. "Such a pity for a girl like that to fall in love with a block of ice like you."

"I'm not a block of ice," I muttered darkly.

"No," He agreed. "Just your heart."

---

A few days later the air had taken a particularly cold turn. People on the streets moved quickly to escape the frigid weather. The air smelled like snow although not a flake had fallen. I looked up at the sky briefly, taking note of the gray clouds rolling in above the buildings. It would snow soon. Any day now.

"Are you listening to me?" Bubbles' voice seeped through my brain and I could feel her tugging at my sleeve. I smirked and looked down at her. She was glaring at me, her lips pulled into a slight pout. "You weren't! My gosh, how pathetic! I was telling you an interesting story about—"

"Your story wasn't interesting," I said in a bored manner and she hit my arm. "Well, it wasn't."

"Fine," She grumbled as she pouted some more. "Be a jerk. See if I sleep with you tonight." We both stopped walking, eyes slightly wide. Suddenly Bubbles gasped, her cheeks flushed as she slapped both of her hands over her mouth. "That came out _so _wrong." I heard her muffled words through the cover of her gloved hands.

I chuckled and she blinked up at me, still mortified.

"Finish telling me your story," I smirked and pulled her hands away from her face. "I wouldn't want to risk you holding out on me."

She hung her head, clearly embarrassed past a healthy point.

"Kill me," She muttered under her breath. "Please."

"Butch!" I frowned and saw Brick jogging towards me, dodging a few other pedestrians.

"Go to you apartment," I instructed Bubbles. "I'll meet you there."

She didn't move and instead stared worriedly at Brick as he came towards us. I grabbed her elbow, drawing her attention away from Brick and back towards me. Her blue eyes were mixed with anticipation and concern. I stopped myself before I hugged her or something pathetically nice like that.

"Go," I told her more firmly. "Now."

She turned and obeyed and I watched her disappear into the building before turning to greet my brother. He stopped beside me, out of breath and clutching his knees with shaking hands. Besides a jacket he wasn't wearing anything to keep off the cold and he looked more blue than any human probably should.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

"They found him," The words slipped from his lips in a mere pant. Three words that I'd been waiting to hear for what seemed to be forever.

They found him.

They found Grant.

"Who found him? Where was he?" I asked as I grabbed my brother's shoulder and helped him to move to the steps. Mrs. Botstein wasn't even out anymore, driven from her perch by the arctic temperatures. "Brick, what's going on?"

"His gang found him," Brick finally managed. How long he'd been running was anyone's guess but he looked about ready to pass out. "He'd been paying someone to hide him, using a backer just like we'd guessed. But his gang found him when he was on his was to the bus station, trying to leave. They knew he was trying to leave them without even giving them money. He told them about the money he'd been storing in his house."

"What'd they do?" I asked, half-wishing they'd killed him on the spot.

"They gave him an ultimative," Brick explained. "Either they kill him right there and figure out the money situation later, or he fight _with_ them and win back the money we took from his house."

"What?" I asked. "He knew we took it?"

"Yeah," Brick nodded. "And so he's going to fight against us and whoever wins gets all the money…"

"And all the power," I sighed and rubbed at my temples, suddenly feeling tired. "What the hell? I thought he was a coward."

"He is," Brick sighed as well. "He knows he has a small chance of living if he fights."

"A very small chance," I scowled. "And the backer, did they figure out who that was who was giving him money?"

"No," Brick shrugged. "I guess that's not too important now. The money is gone anyway. He spent it all to hide out and leave. He didn't expect to get caught."

"So when's the fight?" I asked, the tension running through my body and making my head pound. I couldn't understand why, though. This is what I wanted. I wanted to find him. I wanted to fight him.

"Tomorrow morning," Brick answered. "At the docks."

We were quiet for a long time, unheeding the cold that had enveloped us. I stared blankly out at the city around me, the one place I'd ever be in control. Anywhere else I'd just be another hood. I'd just be another poor kid with no future and a short temper. The city gave me power, gave me a name and a meaning.

Was I willing to fight for that?

Of course. I was willing to fight for anything. It's what I was good at. It's what I was made for. I had nothing to lose.

"Butch?" Came a soft voice from behind me. Brick and I turned to see Bubbles staring at us from the top of the steps. Her familiar blue eyes were still laced with concern. "You two are going to freeze if you keep sitting out here. Come inside where it's warm."

Yeah, I had nothing to lose. Except, of course, for _everything_.

---

"So what's going on?" Bubbles asked me as she tried to crank the heater up. Brick had declined her offer for dinner and so it was just me and her in the apartment. I felt half frozen and she was quickly trying to remedy the situation. "Brick looked a little out of breath."

"He's fine," I pulled off my hoodie and sat down on her bed. "Nothing's wrong."

"Quit lying," She frowned. "Tell me what's going on."

"At least I'm not the only one lying," I muttered cynically.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" She looked at me quizzically, her eyes narrowed and her hands on her hips.

"It means you've been lying to me for the past week—maybe even longer," I finally snapped, my cold tone startling her. "Why should I be honest with you if you won't do the same for me?"

She squared her shoulders and glared at me.

"Jerk," She finally whispered when all other words seemed to fail. She turned and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

I winced, feeling oddly remorseful for upsetting her. I hadn't meant to be mean to her, but I just couldn't help it. I didn't want her to know about the fight the next day. She'd probably demand I wouldn't go. It'd be a huge fight and I just didn't feel as if I could deal with that. She'd cry, I knew that. She'd cry and beg me not to go.

Because she cared about me. Because she was scared I'd get hurt.

Because she liked me more than anyone else had ever liked me. She like _me_. Not because I was strong or powerful. Not because I could steal and buy her anything if she'd only ask. She didn't need any other reason besides the fact that I was me.

That alone either made her a saint or clinically insane.

Probably a little of both.

I sighed as I heard the shower turn on. She always showered when she was pissed off. I stood up and began idly looking around her apartment. It'd come a long way since when it'd first been broken into. Although sparsely furnished, it still looked more like a home than it did before.

My hands brushed across the cover of a book and I stopped. It was that book I'd seen her reading constantly as of late. She'd barely put it down. I frowned and flipped the book over to read the title. There was no title and I narrowed my eyes. The book looked familiar but I could place where I'd seen it.

"Fuck," I muttered when I recognized it. Grant's journal. She'd been reading Grant Audley's journal this whole time? But why? What would possibly make her want to read that sick bastard's life story? "Bubbles!" I yelled for her as I walked to the bathroom and banged twice on the door. "Come out!"

"Why?" She yelled back over the sound of water. She sounded suspicious and untrusting.

I opened the door and heard her scream in shock and protest. Her hands reached out from behind the shower curtain and fumbled to grab a towel. Once covered she pulled back the curtain and stared unsurely at me as I stood leaning against her sink. Her hair, darkened by water and pushed back, dripped down her bare shoulders and she crossed her ankles self-consciously.

"Leave," She told me shakily.

"No," I glared at her.

"Why not?" She asked, wide-eyed as if she expected me to pounce at any moment.

"Why are you reading this?" I asked, holding up Grant's journal. She looked confused and then embarrassed. "_Well_?"

"It's none of your business, really," She sighed as she stepped out of the shower and walked towards me. She reached out for the journal but I moved it out of her reach. She frowned. "I guess I read it so I could understand."

"Understand what?" I raised a nonchalant eyebrow, not so sure why this was bothering me so much. I guess it had something to do with Bubbles' unspoken fascination with Grant Audley. He'd hurt her, what else did she have to know about the guy?

"Understand…everything?" She tried feebly to make me get it. At my blank look she tried to think again for the right words. "I just get so confused as I witness all of you guys go out and risk your necks for power. I don't understand it. I don't see how it's worth getting hurt or possibly dying."

She clutched the towel around her tightly.

"So you want to understand Grant?" I asked coldly. "Why? He tried to kill you."

"I know!" She snatched the book from my hand. "I haven't forgotten that. But he has had a motive for all of his choices and I wanted to figure them out. I wanted to know why it was worth the risk of death. I wanted to know why he felt as if he had to hurt people in order to be important."

"You really want to understand him so much?" I asked with false calmness.

"No!" She laughed tiredly. "I want to understand _you_."

Confusion must have seeped into my eyes because she bit her lips and tried to think.

"I know you don't like being compared to him, but you and Grant are a lot of alike," She held up a hand to cut off my protest. "And I just thought that if I could read about his life and figure out all his reasoning, that maybe I could understand why fighting is so important to you. I _want_ to understand you Butch. I want to be able to help you in any way."

Her sincerity was refreshing after so many days of lies.

"So this book helps you understand me?" I rubbed my temples again. Why exactly she wanted to understand me, I wasn't sure. I was pretty fucked up, not like the diamond in the rough she expected me to be. "So…did the journal really answer all your questions?"

"Most of them," She smiled awkwardly, fidgeting with her towel. "That guy in the pictures we saw at Grant's house…that was his brother. He died when they were in their twenties. He was shot in a drive by."

"So is that why he became a gang leader?" I asked. "To get back at the gang who killed his brother?"

"Yeah," She smiled sadly. "That's how it all began. The death of a brother."

Just like the death of my mother began my own climb to the top.

"So that's why he does everything," I frowned down at the journal in her hands. "That's his justification that makes it all worth while." I scowled. "That's why he thinks all this fighting and death is worth the risk of dying. Revenge."

"No," Bubbles was looking at me closely. "That's why it all started, but that's not the way he feels anymore."

"If not revenge, then what does he think justifies all these people getting hurt?" I asked, staring down at the book.

"Nothing," The book dropped to the ground as Bubbles' hands settled on my own. "He wrote that nothing could possibly justify all the sins he's committed."

And if that were true, then what of my sins? What of my justification? Was my reasoning so hallow?

**---R---**

"So…" Awkward pause. Bubbles fidgeted. "Can I get dressed now?"

I came out of my thoughts, not realizing I had zoned out in her bathroom. She was staring at me and I rubbed the back of my neck and looked away from her face, coincidently noticing her state of dress. Her small blue towel was doing a very bad job of covering her up and I blinked as I realized the end of it barely skimmed her upper thigh.

"Butch?" She blushed as she caught my line of sight. "I have to get dressed."

"Why do you want to understand me?" I asked instead of leaving. My eyes found hers and my body warmed at the look she was giving me.

"Why do you think?" She looked away, appropriately embarrassed.

"Well?" I urged.

She debated with herself and then her shoulders slumped. She sucked in a breath and then, "I love you," Her whispered words were almost too soft to hear but I caught them. The full weight of them refused to hit me and we stood there, letting the declaration fall uselessly in the air.

When she realized I wasn't going to say anything back she winced and bit her lip.

"I'm sorry," She smiled sadly. "I shouldn't have told you that." She looked into my face, searching for something, and then looked chagrined as she met my blank wall. "But I can't take it back now. I'm not really sure that I want to."

"_Why_?" I asked with a sudden scowl. Because surely this was a joke or a ploy to appease me. She couldn't love me. No one could. I was too…too…

The stiffness in her shoulders, the resolute look in her eyes, it all finally registered in my mind. She meant her words. She loved me. And at that moment when various men would have been happy, or scared, or annoyed, or angry, I could only be quiet. There she was, the one girl I would ever want to say those three words to me…and she meant them as a goodbye.

She was _leaving_.

She'd been leaving for a short while now. Her every touch, every kiss, every hooded look had meant to be a farewell, but I'd just been too distracted to see it or take care of it. She was going to leave me and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why or even how I knew. I just did. It was in her eyes, deep beneath the blues and silver hues and in the way her mouth formed my name.

"Butch…" She tried to catch my attention.

She'd leave me and I felt cold with the sudden truth. Wasn't it just my luck to be shown someone so perfect, so amazingly _mine_ and have her ripped away from me? Because why would god ever give such a horrible person like me a girl like her? I hadn't earned her. She was too good for me, for anyone.

"Don't leave," My words were rough and unexpected.

"L-leave?" She looked worried for a moment. Panicked. The old secret hanging above her head and she realized I had figured her out, if only slightly.

Her eyes softened, somehow reading a look in my eyes that I hadn't meant to let slip. Her hands, soft with rough fingertips from work, reached up to touch my cheek. Her skin was hot, searing against mine as she trailed her hands down to my neck to touch the column of my throat. I swallowed and her light blue eyes watched the movement before rising up to look at my lips.

"I love you," She smiled in that painfully perfect way only she could manage. "Please," Her eyes met mine and the naked hunger I felt reflected in my eyes and made her gulp. "Just for one night, let's pretend as if the whole world isn't against that fact." She traced the line of my lips. "You can lie to me and I'll believe it."

She thought I could lie to her and say I loved her? As if it was so easy to pretend as if I'd be okay with just one night and then giving her up?

I could lie and she would believe me. She'd leave with her own piece of mind but I'd be empty again. That warm feeling that buzzed within me would flicker out again.

"No," I told her in the coldest of voices. "I won't lie." Her eyes saddened and her face fell but I just touched her wet, slick hair and curled it around her ear, trying to force myself not to touch anything else. "Sex doesn't have to be about love."

Because with her she only wanted to say goodbye. Her declaration of love wouldn't hinder me, I simply wouldn't believer her. She was too good to love me anyway. This night would be about pity and anger and regret because truly that was all that was ever possible between us anyway. I'd been a fool to think otherwise.

"I don't believe in love," I told her darkly, my fingers touching the moisture around her eyes. "And neither should you."

And then I was pulling her towel away, dropping it, throwing it behind us. Her skin was hot and flushed everywhere. All the places I'd never seen before but had seen a thousand times in my dreams. She moved to cover herself but I caught her wrists before she could, holding them out so that I could see her.

"Perfect," My lips twitched into a slow smirk. "How did I know you were going to be perfect?"

She blushed deeper, her eyes shy and embarrassed, and bit her lip. She opened her mouth to talk, to finish our conversation, but I leaned in to kiss her before she could. Her lips were hesitant against mine, nervous and unsure like the first time we kissed all over again. I pressed my mouth against hers harder, my hand cupping the back of her head.

Not pausing to think, because thinking would only give me cause to stop and I didn't want to stop; I lifted her up and carried her out of the bathroom and to the bed, our mouths still working heatedly against each other. She clung to me, the moisture from her skin seeping into my clothes and her hands spanning the width of my neck.

I laid her out before me, dropping her onto the soft bed, and stood up to look back down at the girl who had so easily rooted herself into my life. The girl who had the power to destroy me unlike any other person in the world. Her small, pale body was mine to see and I drank her in hungrily.

My eyes scanned over the curve of her calf, the pale stretch of her thigh, the blonde tangle of hair between her legs, the flat plane of her stomach. I noted each small freckle, the one by her navel and the two on her thighs, and the small nick of a scar running against the edge of her ribcage. My gaze rested on her chest that rose and fell with unsteady breaths and seemed to blush just as darkly as her face.

I reached down and quickly undressed, shedding my shirt and pants that were much too constricting to my warm body, and finally my boxers so that we would have nothing left between us. Her soft gasp had me looking back at her face where she looked half-scared and half-anticipating what we both knew would come.

"Would you hate me," She managed to get out. "If I told you I was scared?"

I chuckled softly and moved towards her, the mattress bending as I crawled over her body to kiss her lips. The taste of her tongue sent a shiver down my spine and I felt myself grow hard. Her hands came up hesitantly to brush the muscles of my back, her nails grazing my skin gently and making me completely hard. With practiced ease I trailed my mouth down her cheek and across her jaw, tasting the sweet skin along the way.

I would keep her this way. Tomorrow she may leave me alone again, but this moment I would always have. No one else would be her first. She would remember me this way, even years from now when her so called 'love' faded and her eyes dimmed.

I would find my forever on her skin, in her mouth, between her legs. This is how I would keep her.

Her grip on my back tightened as I bit and sucked a particularly sensitive spot I knew made her moan. And moan she did as my teeth grazed the dip of her neck and my tongue came out to soothe the abused area. I repeated my actions, this time making her hips buck up unconsciously and brush against my own.

We both froze and I sucked in a breath, swallowing thickly. Our eyes met and she blushed prettily as I lowered my hips so that I was pressing against the flat plane of her stomach and tremors of pleasure wrapped around my body centered from a certain area. With a determined purpose I continued my trek across her body.

"Butch," She mewled as I ran my hand up her side and brushed along the edge of her breast. I buried my face against the honey tasting skin of her throat as my fingers moved to trace the mound of flesh that had made her say my name. She whimpered at the new attention and I moved to kiss her lips quickly.

Her nipple, small and hard like a pebble against my palm, rose up with her sharp intake of breath. I touched it gently, tracing it, kneading the skin, selfishly enjoying the way her body squirmed and moved against mine. Her breathing was heavier as I moved my lips in a slow trail towards her hard nipple. I sucked and bit and squeezed her breasts as roughly as I felt comfortable. She moaned pleasingly and I focused on the twin.

"_Butch_," This time my name was practically a curse as she twisting her fingers into my hair painfully, her hips and stomach moving up off the bed as she gasped.

"Patience," I told her silkily, my words accompanied by a press of my hips. She was aching, I knew it, but so was I. We'd both have to wait. I wanted her to scream and beg for me first. I wanted her to cry my name and curse me and tell me more lies about her love, even if she didn't mean it in the morning. I wanted to hear it now.

She wanted to see who I really was and I'd show her. But to do that I had to see her, hear her, and claim her. No one else but her would ever do to me and make me feel the desperate need I was feeling for her. She was it for me, and she would leave. And I would be nothing.

"You've ruined me," I told her darkly as I bit the underside of her breast, the sensitive flesh reddening as she squirmed and pulled at my hair again. "No other woman will ever do after you."

"Good," Her eyes, wide and black as the night, held mine. "_Good_."

I bit at her skin, marked at her stomach, kissing and touching. My hands fisted in the sheets around us, touched at her sides, grasped at her ass, molded to her with each possessive kiss. I needed her like I needed air. I would catch fire if I didn't bury myself within her.

"You shouldn't have lied," I told her as I reached down and slipped a finger within the damp folds between her legs. She stiffened and let out a shaky breath as her hands fisted in messy sheets, knuckles white and hands shaking. "I hate myself for wanting to believe you. I hate that you made me so weak." I said sardonically against her hipbone. I slipped another finger in. "I hate how you make me _need_ you."

"I wasn't lying," She began but I didn't want to hear that. I slipped a third finger in and she hissed, the stretch around my fingers was tight and clenching. "I-I love you." She managed before her eyes squeezed shut. "_Butch_."

My fingers began pumping, making a quick rhythm and I watched her eyes as they opened and darkened and her breath picked up. My thumb brushed the nub of skin I knew would make her scream and scream she did. _My _name. Over and over again as I touched her where she wanted to be touched. Where she ached to be touched.

"Please," She was begging, pleading with me. She wasn't even aware of what she was asking, just knowing that she had to form the words. "Please," She moaned again as my fingers rubbed her swollen flesh and brushed her slick walls.

But as her toes flexed and her back arced up, I drew my fingers out, leaving her wanting and weak.

"Patience," I told her again. Because _I_ had been patient. I had waited for her forever. And I wasn't going to end this so fast.

"Please, Butch," Her voice cracked with pleasure and she bit her lip, not understanding her own body's reaction to me. I smirked and moved to cover her body with my own again. Glad she was finally as confused as I was. And soon we were lined up and I was resting my weight on my forearms as I leaned down to kiss her lips is a sharp, selfish kiss.

And she was smiling up at me, a soft twist of her bruised lips and a flash of light in her lust-filled eyes. "What?" I asked her as I rested my forehead against hers, preparing myself as my body ached and I realized how painfully hard I was against the heat of her entrance.

"I-I do love you," She managed to breathe out as she twisted her arms around my back, her nails against my shoulder blades.

I didn't say anything and instead I moved and entered her. Her legs, spread apart, came up around my hips as we shifted. The new position made her wince uncomfortably, my length at her entrance and stretching her painfully but I knew she'd get used to it soon. I kissed her almost softly as I gave a quick, hard thrust and broke past the barrier I knew was there.

And then she was crying. Not loudly and not sadly, but with the sharp pain of her first time. I kissed her cheeks, the salt from her tears clinging to my lips as I tried to brush away the evidence that I'd hurt her. Soon enough she was moving, trying to accommodate my size.

She was tight and untouched and I stiffened and stilled myself so as not to finish too soon. Once she was finally used to the change I began to thrust into her tightness. My breath caught in my throat with a deep groan as I my hips struggled not to move too fast. The slapping of flesh filled the room and our harsh breathing echoed as I picked up a rhythm.

"Faster," She begged me, the words brushing against my cheek and I _smiled_ at her.

We both moaned as my pace quickened, our bodies tensing with the almost rapid movement. In and out. I went harder, faster, deeper. Presperation gathered at my temples as I hung my head, my hair falling and blocking my sight. My whole body, the back of my knees, my neck, my shoulders felt slick.

I wanted to keep going, to feel her tighten around me, her nails biting into my back, my muscles contracting, forever. I didn't want her to leave. I didn't want this to slip away. My hands desperately pulled at the sheets, trying to latch onto something. My stomach muscles clenched, ready, and I drove into her haphazardly. My thrusts became off and angled, my mind incoherent to anything but my own pleasure and the feel of her against me.

"Say it," Thrust. "Again." I demanded of her with rough, needy tones. Because I wanted to hear her say it, I secretly wished to believe it, wished it meant something.

"Butch," She was saying and I never thought I'd heard my name sound so blessed. "_I love you_."

And her nails were digging against me with a quick scrape, her innerwalls tightening, and her back arcing as she came. Sweet sweat coated her skin and I bit at her throat as she cried out softly with release. With quick, hurried thrusts into her pulsing cavern, I felt my own body tighten and soon I was falling, white dots in my eyes and the break of pleasure washing over me.

"Mhmm," She moaned as I sagged above her, filling her completely and refusing to pull out.

Sweaty and out of breath I rolled us over, letting her slide against my chest as the cool air met our flushed bodies. The apartment smelled of sex and her body smelled faintly of soap and me. My breathing slowly began to even out, my eyes trained on the ceiling as I traced the sweat sheen skin on her back.

"I…" She began but then couldn't find the words. Suddenly she sighed and buried her face against the crook of my shoulder, her nose and lips pressed against me. "That was…"

"Amazing?" I supplied with a proud smirk.

I felt her frown and her skin heated with a blush as she shifted against me. My arms tightened around her hips, my stomach rising and falling and rocking her with a gentle sway. Languidly she trailed her fingers up the side of my arm, brushing across the vanes, the scars, and sinewy muscles.

"That was…not what I expected," She said at last, her voice low and husky and I could hear them morphing into a moan again. She blushed and hid her face against me again, probably having much of the same thought. I felt her trying to pull away but I wouldn't let her move. "That was probably a mistake."

I stared down at the top of her head and frowned. "A mistake?"

"We shouldn't have done that," She raised her head to look at me, her blue eyes shifting darkly with her post-high. "I-it was stupid and impulsive and…"

She pushed against me trying to get away and I held her with a steely grip, rolling us back over so that she was trapped beneath me. She frowned and pushed at my chest with her small, flat palms. I refused to move, instead staring down at her with a cold look. She moved her knees, trying to knock me off, but I pinned her down with my hips.

"Why do you have to be such a jerk?" She muttered after settling with a defeated sigh against the mattress. I pulled out of her, leaving her shaking softly with remaining tremors.

"You enjoyed it," I told her knowingly. She blushed the shade of a tomato and glared at me.

"Of course I did," She snapped. "But not just for the reasons you think."

I sighed, too tired to think and put my head down beside her. I felt her breath against my ear. "Then why exactly did you enjoy it?" I asked her tiredly. Why was she upset? She was the one leaving, I deserved to be angry.

"I enjoyed it because I love you," She whispered. "And I love being with you in every way."

"Quit saying that," I closed my eyes. "I don't want to hear it anymore."

I felt her stiffen in hurt and then relax with a sigh beneath me. Soon I'd roll off her so that I wouldn't crush her, but for now I was tired and spent and too relaxed to move off her soft curves that insisted on molding against my hard body.

"Just because I said I love you," She gently trailed her fingertips against my spine. "Doesn't mean you have to say it back." She giggled. "I won't force you to say it or anything."

She was trying to avoid the real issue at hand and like a coward I was as well. I should demand her to tell me why she was leaving, force her to stay. But I'd have to fix that later. I just wanted to sleep next to her for now. I didn't want to fight. For once, with this one girl, I just rather not fight.

Bubbles must have shared the same thought because she giggled again, the noise vibrating through us both. "Okay, I guess that was pretty _amazing_." I tilted my head to see her smiling brilliantly at me. The silver in her eyes danced in the moonlight and her pale skin flushed with her innocent beauty. "And it was not at all a mistake." She finished with a gentle tone in her voice.

I chuckled and she pressed her mouth to mine.

"Let's do it again," She suggested with a mortified blush, twisting her fingers into the sheets nervously. "Please."

"Give me a minute," I told her while a small surge of pride twisted in my stomach.

But Bubbles seemed intent on distracting us from the dark thoughts that plagued us both. She poked my stomach, making the muscles clench as she gave me an audacious look, her eyes gleaming.

"Again," She demanded playfully and I could do nothing but comply.

---

We were on the floor beside the bed. The sheets had fallen down around us and she was leaning back against a pillow. I was sitting close to her, my back against the side of the bed. Bubbles was wearing my shirt. Only my shirt. It was long and came to about her mid-thigh. The material was thin and her curves could be seen pressed against it. I, for my part, was completely naked and the cool air felt good. My legs were stretched out before me and my body was almost fully relaxed.

"So what was your mother's name?" Bubbles asked me. She was holding my hand, tracing each finger as if memorizing each callous. Her manner was hesitant as if she were nervous about asking such a question. She wasn't sure if I would respond, if I would get mad, if I would—

"Candace," I told her without much hesitation. My tone was bored but I was watching her with obvious interest. "Candace Beverly Sawyer."

I let that sink in and she smiled, linking the name with the image of my mother in her mind. I could see in her smile that she thought the name suited her.

"What about your father?" She asked. "You never mention him. What's his name?"

I paused at this one. "I never met my dad. He was a…one night thing. And he never even knew about my brothers and me. I don't think he'd stick around if he did. I'm pretty sure he dodged a bullet when it came to us, unlike my mom."

She traced a scar on my ring finger and frowned. I'd already told her about my mom's less than virtuous occupation. She seemed saddened at the fact but then had smiled and nodded understandingly. Her interest in my past was bizarre for me but her acceptance of it was almost too strange.

"Don't say that," She told me gently. "Maybe if he knew about you and your brothers he would have stuck around. He might be a nice guy."

"It's easier to think that he isn't," I said in that eerily calm tone I had. I didn't want to completely ruin her ideals. She put too much faith in people, though.

"I think it's better to think the best of people," She shrugged honestly. "Even if you don't know them very well. It's always good to assume the best."

"That's an easy way to get disappointed," I looked her over.

She shrugged again. "I like to believe that everyone is good deep down."

I frowned. "What if they're not? What if they only pretend to be good, and then end up hurting you? Wouldn't you rather think the worst and stay safe?"

She kissed my knuckles, her soft lips brushing against the raw skin. "You want to think the worst of me, don't you?" She asked me.

I looked away.

She grinned. "I'm not going to hurt you, Butch." She told me.

I rolled my eyes but still said nothing. She was going to leave after all, so what was the point of arguing with her?

My stomach twisted regretfully and I narrowed my eyes.

She reached over and ran her fingers against my cheekbone and then let her hand drop lower to brush against my lips. I smirked against her fingertips and she smiled over at me. She was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

"I won't hurt you either," I said and my breath warmed her skin. I willed her to believe me, to see that I wasn't such a bad choice to stay with. I wouldn't hurt her and I'd keep her safe. That may not be love but it was something. "At least not on purpose."

She blushed and pulled her hand back to her lap. She smiled sweetly at me. "See?" She prodded. "You're a better person than you think."

I smirked. "I guess you've had a good influence on me."

She nodded. "I guess so."

My smirk turned into a devilish smile. She squirmed beneath my gaze and sent me a questioning look. That only managed to make me chuckle and I leaned towards her, a glint forming in my dark green eyes.

"And I've had a bad influence on you," I told her plainly. Tauntingly.

She huffed. "You have not."

My eyes moved down to the bare skin of her thigh that wasn't covered by my shirt. Her pale skin was still slick with sweat from our previous actions and I let my eyes rove over her curves. Her hips and chest were almost visible through the t-shirt and I suddenly longed to pull it off her and begin round three of our night. She sat still as I took her in. My gaze paused on her chest, looking a bit thoughtfully at the fabric that hid her breasts from my view.

"Come here," I quickly demanded, my voice rougher than before and her eyes darkened attractively at the sound.

"God, you were right," She mumbled to herself. "You've corrupted me."

I smirked and my arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her towards me. With a blush she allowed me to lower her onto my lap, my hardness entering her as she sat facing me. We both let out a slightly shaky breath. This new position allowed me to get deeper than before, and her body stretched almost painfully to let me in. My hands moved to grip her around her small waist, bunching up my shirt in the process.

Finally she realized that I was waiting for _her_ to make the first move. My grip was needy and her eyes were dark, but I was waiting for her to begin this. She swallowed and slowly shifted her hips, testing it out. She rubbed me and clenched in every right way and I gasped with the sharp coil of pleasure that shot through me. Her echoing moan rested in the back of her throat as her fingers, aching to latch on to something, grabbed my arms.

Our heads leaned in, our foreheads resting against each other, as we panted slightly. Our breaths mingled and I stared into her darkened cerulean eyes. I was watching her, still waiting.

She seemed to understand and began to move again. She was clumsy at first, but my hands on her hips helped to create a pace. Each pivot had us breathing heavier and she closed her eyes, feeling herself rise up over the chasm again. Soon the tension between my legs was excruciating and I bucked desperately up into her once out of instinct.

"Butch," She moaned out breathily. Again, in the haze of her mind, she wasn't sure what she was asking for, but I knew past what her inexperience could give. I felt the same waves of pleasure and only wanted to have her closer. I needed to be deeper. Faster.

She felt the same, we both understood and my hands pulled her against me. She buried her face against my neck, her hips still grinding and the tension still building. I heard her irregular breathing and felt the fast pace of her heart. I realized that I was groaning so low it was almost a growl and she tried her best to take me in deeper.

"Almost," I said simply, answering her plea. My voice was hoarse and I felt it vibrate through us, bringing her closer to the edge. The feeling was bubbling so high now that I couldn't control my movements. I wanted it now. Her hips thrust against me violently, creating slapping sounds as our flesh met. I could hardly hear it over the sound of our breathing.

"Now," She tried to say against my skin, but it came out as only a meaningless whimper.

Our pace was getting quicker, her hips moving off beat as she tried to bring us both to our climax. My short, blunt nails dug into the sweaty skin of her hips as I shoved my hands beneath the hem of my shirt so that I could touch the skin beneath it. I lifted her up slightly, causing us both to moan out, before I brought her quickly back down against me. Hard.

"Uhn," She grunted as she bit into the skin of my neck. Her whole body quaked and shivered and trembled as she hit her high. She moaned against my skin, my mind momentarily incoherent as white flashes of heat tore across my vision.

After a moment she began to calm, her body still pulsing. I was still gripping at her hips, my breathing fast. The throbbing stretch of her inner walls let her know that I was still buried within her. But the sticky feeling that was beginning to trail down the inside of her thigh and coat mine said that I had found my release.

"Bubbles," I sighed, gently releasing her hips. My skin was still sensitive and I shivered against her.

She pulled away from my neck after quickly kissing the abused skin she had bit. She looked into my eyes and I felt slightly lazy. Her skin was slick like mine and the stretch of my stomach and chest was flushed from the heat we'd created. She was grinning at me.

Unconsciously I moved a hand up and brushed some sweaty strands of hair out of her face and behind her ear. The flaxen strands were soft as I tucked them back and traced my fingers lightly against her temple. The move was gentle and she caught my hand and kissed my rough palm. I watched her closely and for once she didn't blush.

We sat there for a while, breathing deep, as she kept my hand in hers and ran her fingers against each crease of skin.

Suddenly I felt her clench around me, sending my blood pumping back towards my relaxed member. I was slowly getting harder and the tell-tale stretchy feeling between her legs caused me to shudder.

"_Again_," Bubbles whispered in that low voice that made my teeth ache with want.

And I was gripping the bottom of my shirt—the one that she was wearing—and my fingers brushed against her stomach. She lifted up her arms and I understood and lifted the shirt over her head. She was bare before me and I tossed the shirt aside as I began to stir within her, finally beginning to get harder.

With a slowness that taunted her, I trailed my hand over her collarbone. We never broke eye contact as my rough skin ran against her heated chest. At last I had palmed on of her breasts and her nipple was hard against my grip. She arced unconsciously into the touch and our stomachs met. The sharp lines of my toned muscles were firm against the flat plane of her abdomen.

"_Again_."

.

---

"So then Princess poured her apple juice all over my skirt," Bubbles was telling me, her voice annoyed at the memory. "The whole class thought I had peed my pants and laughed at me. It was traumatizing. I hated second grade."

"That girl will get what's coming to her," I said knowingly. "Karma's a bitch."

She smiled at that.

We were in the kitchen now. Bubbles was sitting at her table, the blue sheet from the bed wrapped around her naked body. The material was cool and soft and it trailed down to the floor. I was standing at the stove, boiling some water for hot coco. I was only in my boxers and ever minute or so I'd turn and catch the blonde shamelessly staring at the view I was presenting her.

"So how was second grade for you?" She asked as she looked away, embarrassed to be caught staring but a small smile curving her lips.

.

_I'd corrupted her in the worst way…_

"School was a blur," I said plainly.

We were quiet as I mixed in the chocolate. We needed 'nourishment' or so Bubbles had told me.

I turned to ask her something but the blues of her eyes were suddenly sad and mourning.

"What?" I asked with a frown.

"Nothing," She shook her head.

"You're looking at me like I'm going to disappear," I accused.

She smiled. "I guess I am. I can't help it though. I feel as if tonight is the last night we'll ever be like this again."

That panic from earlier, the feeling of losing her came back. But she was staring at me as if I was equally unattainable and I couldn't figure her out. I wasn't going anywhere. The fight tomorrow would be rough, yes, but I'd be alright. And she didn't even know about that so—

"I keep feeling like this is all a dream," She smiled absently, her eyes distant. "I feel as if I'll wake up at any minute and you will be gone. That…that's why I wanted to enjoy tonight. Remember it. Because I don't want to lose you. And I couldn't help but think…well, if I could only have you for this one night then that would have to be enough. If this was all you wanted and then it was over, then I'd have to be okay with that. As much as I want to keep you, I feel as if it is impossible."

But she didn't have to have me for just one night. She could have me tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. I wasn't worth much but I was hers as long as she wanted me. One night wasn't enough.

"So I'll just have to enjoy this one night," She looked down at the table top. "I wanted to heal you, keep you, save you. So I tried to help you in the only way I knew how and…" She looked back up and I was quickly kneeling before her. She smiled again. "Enough sad talk, huh? Let's just enjoy to night, as long as you don't mind that all the while I'll be praying that morning wouldn't come."

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine softly. I buried my hand in her hair and deepened the kiss, our tongues mingling and battling. I savored her taste. I enjoyed the feel of her wrapping me up in her small, thin arms. I grabbed for her.

And secretly I'd pray that morning wouldn't come.

Then, maybe, I could keep her as well.

"_Again_," She demanded, her fingers tracing under the waistband of my boxers.

I nodded and kissed her heatedly, my hands managing to slip off my boxers. She melted into my kiss and let me drag her to my chest. She kissed me with all she had, begging me ardently with her mouth to answer all her questions and save her from herself.

---

She was up against the wall. Her legs were wrapped securely around my hips, my hands gripping her thighs and her nails digging into my shoulders. I was thrusting up into her, hitting her at odd angles and making her bite at her lip to keep from crying out with rapture.

"Faster," She told me shakily. It was getting easier for her to know what her body was craving, and at the moment she was leaning towards her climax and she just needed me to go quicker.

At once I picked up the pace, driving deeper and grunting as she tightened around me in that sickly addictive way. My face was buried against her chest, my mouth kissing the dip between her breasts. The muscles of my back were contracting beneath her hands with each plunge.

My body began to heat up as I hit a particularly deep spot and her toes curled as well. Her head fell back against the wall and she gripped me desperately. Bright colors flitted across the back of my eyelids as I closed my eyes and hit my high. I realized I was saying her name, over and over again. Repeating it urgently as my body was enveloped by heat.

With two more jerky thrusts, I emptied into her. We stilled at once and I leaned us both against the wall. I was slightly surprised I managed to still be standing, holding us both up. Her legs, wrapped around my waist, went slightly slack and were undoubtedly too weak to even let her stand up.

"Butch," Her tongue formed my name easily, seeing as she'd been moaning it only moments before. I looked up from the hallow of her breasts and our mouths met. We kissed slowly. Languidly. Our lips searing against each other. I leaned up into her kisses. I was still buried within her and she was still wrapped around me.

I smiled against her mouth, amazed that I still found the taste of her so sweet.

"So…" She laughed against my lips as we pulled away she kissed my cheek.

My hands lowered her legs down and her bare feet hit the floor. She leaned up against me for support and I trailed my hands against her sides to hold her up. We stood for a moment until our breathing regulated and she could support her own weight. Then I pulled slowly from her and each ridge I hit sent out a pulse and she gripped at the wall behind her.

"So…" She started again, my eyes trailing over my lithe form. She was as mesmerized by his tapered waist and tanned skin as I was her insipid skin and soft curves. A blush was burning her cheeks when she caught me staring. "Again?"

I laughed at this and she gave me a happy smile. I felt possessive of her smile and her sweet face.

"I haven't worn you out yet?" I asked lowly, my hands gripping her around her ribs and brushing the undersides of her breasts.

"No," She told him simply, an embarrassed smile on her face and her eyes trained on my shoulder.

I dragged her to back to me, our bodies pushed flush against another. Her chest pressed against mine and her arms encircled my neck. She pressed her face against my collarbone, her nose against the hard muscle bellow my taunt skin. She heard my heart beating and quickly pressed a chaste kiss to my pulse.

"Again," She said softly to me, her lips brushing against my skin and the pulse of my heart against her mouth.

---R---

"Tired yet?" I asked her in a slow, exhausted voice.

We were lying on the bed now, both breathing leisurely. She was lying against my stomach, her cheek pressed against the muscles beneath my navel and her hair sticking to my damp skin. I was leaning back against the mattress, one hand behind my head and the other down and running through her silky hair.

"Hmmm," She moaned contently, her innocent eyes watching my skin. She let her fingers trace around my bellybutton, thoroughly interested.

The bed was bare except for the sheet covering the mattress. The pillows were on the ground, our clothes spread out around the apartment. The other sheet was somewhere near the table and my boxers were somewhere near the door. She'd insist on picking them up later but for now she just liked lying on top of me.

"Men can have such wonderful bodies," She seemed envious despite the embarrassed flush on her neck. I raised an eyebrow, my own eyes straying to her body that could only be described as perfect. Mine was littered with tattoos and scars. Hers was…just perfect.

I twisted a strand of her hair around my fingers. We were both quiet and she let her own fingers trace the lines of my stomach. She touched at the knife wound that ran diagonally down my torso. It was jagged but healing almost completely. I could see the places where it had still yet to scar and the others that were covered by a pink raised skin. The wound on my cheek was scarred over too.

_They didn't subtract from my beauty,_ she had told me innocently as she kissed my cheek earlier, _they only seemed to suit me more each day_.

"You should call in sick to work tomorrow," I said at last, my emerald eyes watching her blonde hair as I messed with it.

_Tomorrow_. It was practically already tomorrow. Hours had passed in a blur of heat and pleasure. Soon I'd have to leave for the fight. I had to, because I wasn't me if I didn't.

Would she be here when I got back?

She moved her head to look at me, her chin resting against my stomach. I raised an eyebrow and gave her a bored look and she pinched at the non-existent fat on my side.

"Why?" She finally asked, her curiosity winning over.

"You'll…be sore," I said at last, feeling slightly odd that I had to explain it to her. "You should probably take it easy tomorrow."

_So don't move around too much, don't leave. Don't leave_.

She giggled and looked shyly down at her fingers. "Sore?" She asked. "I feel fine right now."

"It'll hit you in the morning," I explained. "And walking around and waiting on tables will be the last thing you'll want to do. So just try and take it easy."

"Will _you_ be sore?" She asked, tilting her head a bit.

"No," I smirked plainly and she pinched again at my side again.

She sighed against my stomach and gave it a small kiss.

"What time is it anyway?" She asked. The blinds were closed but through the uneven slat I could see that it was completely black outside the window. I hadn't looked at the clock in what seemed to be hours. It felt as if time had ceased to exist. As long as we kept touching and kissing, I wondered if morning would ever come.

I didn't want morning to come. I just wanted to keep her here. I was suddenly tired of fighting, of chasing after a man who was too much like me, of losing and getting hurt and hurting everyone else. The morning would only bring back all that pain. I didn't want the rest of the world to barge in. Reality would tear this uneasy moment of fragile peace away, I knew it.

"I'm tired," She whispered to me.

I nodded. "Go to bed." I told her gently.

"Mmm," She blinked her eyes heavily. "M'kay." She scooted up so that her leg fell across mine, my arms around her waist. "I love you," She murmured as she finally succumbed to sleep.

"Yeah, I know," I looked up at the ceiling, holding Bubbles against me with more force than necessary. I let out a slow breath and ran my hands along her body, memorizing the feel of her and preparing myself for the oncoming dawn and all it would bring.

Outside the rush of wind beat at the window, and a violent shower of snow began falling onto the awaiting city.

The calm before the storm was over.

---

Morning, that seemed to come all too soon, seeped in through the slats of the blinds. I blinked and sighed.

I had to leave. The fight at the docks would start soon and I couldn't be late.

"Going to work?" Bubbles' asked as I slipped out from underneath her, the warmth of her skin still clinging to mine. She grabbed for some sheets to pull around her but frowned when she found none.

"No," I said, bypassing the lie I had intended on telling her. What was the point of lying anyway? We both knew I wasn't going to work.

She said nothing for a long time as I got dressed, pocketing a knife and walking into her kitchen. I opened a drawer and grabbed the gun Brick had given to her a few days ago, before she ever got hurt. I slipped it into my jean pocket and caught her stare across the apartment. Her light blue eyes tracked my movement as she laid on her stomach, her body bare and her fingers twisting nervously at the mattress cover.

"Don't go," Was all she said as her eyes clouded up with the threat of tears. I had to look away with annoyance, knowing I could only withstand her waterworks for so long before I bent to her will. I couldn't afford to cave. Besides, she wasn't allowed to make demands. It was morning, our night of reprieve was over.

She'd leave. Her watery eyes told me so.

"Goodbye," I said instead, my tone cold and unattached.

"Wait," I looked back to see her sitting up on the bed, every part of her exposed as she awkwardly tried to cover herself with a pillow. I had to look away. It was disturbing how the mighty have fallen. It was sick how much I found myself needing her. "Please just stay a little longer."

"I have to go," I said while pushing my feet into my shoes.

She faltered and looked out the window, her eyes settling on the city.

"It snowed last night," She said at last. Her voice turned slightly bitter as she glared back at me. "It seems the whole city has frozen along with your heart."

'_Such a pity for a girl like that to fall in love with a block of ice like you_,' Harper's words floated through my mind, mocking me like a cold twist of a knife.

"Hypocrite," I labeled her unemotionally, ignoring the way her eyes glazed over. I had to be angry, mad, vengeful, or else I would die. That was life. It wasn't built on love or stupid promises. Pain and fighting were the only things that I would ever know and ever believe in. I should have remembered that sooner.

"I guess I am," She looked down and frowned. "More so than you. At least you never lied to me about who you were. But I…" She trailed off and a tear ran down her cheek. "I just want you to know, Butch, that everything I've done is because I love you. I just wanted you to be safe and happy." She looked up at me with a look so desperate that if I had a heart it would have cracked, but instead I just stared back at her. "I'm sorry if it all backfired miserably."

I should ask her what she meant. I should walk back over to her, touch her cheek, kiss her, mold to her. I should protect her like I promised. I should protect her like I really wanted to, deep down.

But instead I just left, leaving her alone and crying. I left because if I stayed I would have been admitting that I was weak. I would have been admitting that I needed a girl more than I needed power or titles. I would be admitting things I'd tried my whole life to ignore and deny.

Things like the warm feeling that had settled in my chest to stay when I woke up with Bubbles lying against me. Maybe it was love.

Or as close to love as I'd ever get.

---

"Ready?" Big Billy's hand clapped hard against my back and I jolted forward from the hit.

"Yeah," I muttered as I blew into my hands that felt frozen already. "Sure."

"We might as well go," Brick sighed, looking at the small crowd of men that were gathered in front of the empty bar. All the men shifted anxiously in the snow, waiting with anticipation for the fight to begin. "Everyone is here who is going to show up."

Ace nodded, his head tilted up towards the sky where grey clouds clashed violently and a flurry of snow fell down around us. The snow plows had already cleared the street but a thick sheet of ice still remained and the falling snow would cover it soon. People were hailing cabs more often and bundled up with all their winter clothes.

"It's fucking cold," A man I hadn't seen before rubbed his hands together and his jaw was clenched to keep his teeth from chattering. He was older than me, but only slightly so. "Why couldn't we fight in the summer time?"

"Come on!" Ace motioned for us to follow him as he took to the back alleys and familiar streets. The snow was thick and up past my ankles already. I trudged along, following Brick's steps to make walking a bit easier. Everyone's eyes strayed to the ground to keep from slipping on any ice beneath the snow.

"Boomer should be here," Brick said loud enough from me to hear. He fell back into step beside me. "I told him to come."

I looked up to where the Gang Greene Gang were walking, the only people ahead of my brother and me, and frowned. Boomer wasn't known for his punctual tendencies. Normally I wouldn't think twice about him but I could suppress the sudden image of him drunk and passed out under a blanket of fresh snow.

"Are you worried about him?" Brick's voice made me look over at him with a raised eyebrow. He just shrugged. "You aren't as hard to read as you used to be." He explained.

"He'll be here," I said confidently. "He always comes."

"Yeah," Brick sighed and shook his head. "But I can't help but think we should have sat this fight out. Just the three of us. We should have let everyone else handle it."

"That's the coward's way out," I said sharply and Brick frowned down at the snow, his red eyes narrowed.

"I don't know, man," He looked back over at me. "This feels wrong. With the police sniffing around and the secret backer…I just can't help thinking there's too many lose ends. Besides, The Audley Boys are desperate. They're dangerous."

"I'm here!" Boomer's panting voice reached my ears and I turned to see him pushing past the flanks of men following dismally behind us in the cold. Boomer's breath hung in the air and he was out of breath, but besides that he looked fine and completely sober. It was a welcomed change.

"What took you so long?" Brick growled lowly to him a he fell into step with us. He just grinned widely back at Brick and jokingly shrugged his shoulders.

"I slept in," He replied honestly as he tugged a beanie over his head to cover his ears.

Brick rolled his eyes and we kept walking, winding our way towards the docks like some gang in an old movie.

---

"The only rule is that there's no guns allowed," Ace explained as we stood in line, facing the line of Audley Boys across from us. To our left was the harbor and two our right was some old storage buildings. My eyes stayed trained on Grand Audley who stood in the middle of his men, directly in front of Ace. "Everything else is fine. Fight hard and kill if you have to."

A slow rumble of talk filled our line but Brick held up a hand and we grew quiet again. My feet felt wet and cold and my nose burned. I ignored this and focused on the man across of Ace. I wasn't lined up to fight him, but I'd find a way. My blood coursed and my fists balled tightly.

"There won't be any talking," Brick was telling Boomer as if he didn't already know. My blond brother nodded, his dark blue eyes dancing along the line of men before us. He seemed unaware of the rising danger. "So don't expect this to be compromised any other way."

"Fine with me," Boomer popped his knuckles loudly. "No talking will be needed."

Brick smirked but I looked away. It was time to fight.

---

The fight was already underway, warm blood melting the fresh snow as men were tossed and beaten around me. I dodged a knife, then a chain, and landing a punch or two. Men, both younger and older than me, shrunk and fell beneath my wrath. I brought pain. I brought fury.

But not for them.

Where was Grant?

"Butch!" Brick's shoulder collided with my back as he was pushed against me. He ducked as I turned and sucker punched the guy who'd hit him. I grabbed a knife from his limp hand cleaned it off in the snow. "Go get Grant," Brick panted near me. "He's backing up to run away."

Sure enough, Grant, somehow unheeded by the other fighters, was edging towards the crates along the docks. He was watching us all, waiting to have a chance to slip away.

"Go," Brick pushed at me so that we both stumbled away from a group of men interlocked in a tangle of swings and punches. The flash of a metal blade struck home and someone groaned. "Get him now, before he gets away again."

"Right." I nodded and slipped along the outskirts of the brawl.

Grant, not noticing me, finally made his retreat around the corner of a warehouse. I followed quickly, the crunch of snow hardly heard over the sounds of fighting behind me.

"Grant!" I called out as I turned the corner. I frowned when I couldn't see him. "Be a man, come out and fight."

"Are you so eager to die?" Grant suddenly stepped out from behind a wall. I tensed, the hilt of the knife digging in my palm. "What, no talking? No speech before we fight?"

"Fuck off," I scowled as I lunged and swiped at him. The blade caught his shirt, tearing it but not hitting skin. He spun, kneeing my ribs and I stumbled back. We faced each other again. My eyes narrowed.

"Why so tense, boy?" Grant laughed. "Mad I almost got away? Mad I hurt you so badly before? Or are you mad I'm so close to taking the power you worked so hard to obtain?"

My fist hit his jaw, my blade cut him from his elbow to his wrist but only a thin line of red appeared. He swung but missed me. I was faster. Younger. I was angrier.

"Or are you mad that you're losing your girl?" He laughed now and spit into the snow. "She's leaving you, isn't she?"

I said nothing, but instead barreled into him, sending us both into the cold snow as I cut at his throat. His arm came up in time, blocking my swipe and I cut his hand instead. His fist connected with my jaw and he rolled me off, kicking at my stomach as I spun to stand. Another swipe, another hit, another punch. I kept up a rhythm. I didn't have time to think.

"Did you think she'd stay?" He shook his head. Blood ran down his temple. "Trust me, no one ever stays with people like us. We were born alone and we die alone."

"We're nothing alike," I sneered at him. I was not Grant Audley. I was not a coward. I was born with two brothers. I was brave. And I would not lose Bubbles.

"She's already gone, I bet," He laughed as though he read my mind. "Packed up and as far from this city as she could get."

"What do you know about anything?" I tried to hit him again but he dodged and backed away.

"I know more than you do, and that's killing you isn't it?" He laughed.

"What did you do?" I asked coldly.

"I didn't have to do anything," He shook his head, no longer smiling. "Your girl came to me."

"Liar," I bit out against my anger.

"No more lying," He sighed. "What's the point? Only one of us is going to live anyway."

"What did you do to her?" I wanted to kill him. Drive my blade into his throat.

"Like I said, she came to me." He watched me warily. "She wanted to save you. Pay off my debt so that there would be no more fights. Naïve girl, isn't she? But who am I do turn down such a generous offer? I needed the money that you had grabbed from my house. She could give me some compensation for that in the meantime. I had to hide, after all."

"She didn't give you any money," I glared at him. "She told me her father-"

"Her father? Ha! She didn't borrow the money from her father. I doubt he'd give her that much without question," He shook his head at my confusion. "She had to get it from someone else, that determined girl. She had to make a deal, just like all of us do at some point. She had to make a decision and she chose to be selfless."

I blinked as reality hit me. My cold behavior towards her, her regretful looks, her cryptic remarks, her lingering touches. They all made sense now. I knew she was leaving me. I had thought it had been a choice though. But she'd felt backed into a wall. She'd done what she could. She'd been trapped and she had made a choice for me.

"Andrew," I said tonelessly to myself.

She'd borrowed the money from her ex-fiancé. He would have given it to her too, but not without a repercussion. She'd go back to him. That was the deal. To save me she'd go back to him.

"Bingo!" Grant laughed. "A little slow, aren't you boy?"

"You bastard," My voice thickened with a dark hate I felt boiling up within me. He'd backed her into a corner. He'd made her feel so desperate she chose to leave me. And I'd been too blind to realize this. I'd blamed her when I should have been protecting her.

"And so the poor boy loses the rich girl," Grant said solemnly. "Just as we all must lose the ones we love. It's the way of the world, boy. The cruel twist of fate. It hurts doesn't it? To realize that you could have prevented this all along but you were too prideful to try."

Bubbles had left for my sake. For me.

And I had made her cry. I'd thrown her sacrifice right back in her face. I felt sick.

My eyes, half-lidded, gazed at the snow beneath my feet. She did it all because she loved me. A sacrifice that would make her miserable. For me. All for me.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Grant asked. "To lose the only person who ever really love you is a truly miserable thing."

I had ignored the signs. I had been blind. So blind.

"I'll give you the same offer I gave young Jazz," Grant continued and the click of a gun registered belatedly in my mind. "I can end the pain for you. Make it all go away. One instant and you'll never have to deal with this again. You hurt her and she's gone forever. I'll let you die so you will never have to deal with the loss again."

I looked up and saw the man I'd been chasing for so long, a gun outstretched to shoot me. I blinked, carelessly, at him. The blade in my hand slipped from my fingers and sunk into the snow. I watched the barrel of the gun, unseeing and unthinking.

"To die will be the ultimate freedom from this hell we've created," Grant sighed. "So…die."

'_Bubbles_,' My mind tried to supply. '_I'm sorry_.'

And then a gunshot rang out into the air, sharp and cracking and life-changing.

A heartbeat later I realized I hadn't been hit. Grant hadn't fired. Someone else had.

"What?" Grant frowned, his eyes turning back towards the sounds of the brawl. It suddenly grew louder, more violent. I frowned and looked as well. When I turned back Grant was gone, vanished behind a wall, through a building, and away.

With only a moment of delay I moved towards the fight, my body cold and stiff, my fingers clenched.

As I turned the corner I frowned as I noticed the fight had somehow ended. Everyone stood around, staring down at something with drawn, torn faces. I pushed my way through them until I caught hold of Brick's shoulder and tugged him. He didn't turn and I scowled.

"Who won?" I asked. "Grant got away so…"

Brick wasn't paying attention; his eyes were wide and blank as he stared down at something. The words died in my throat as I followed my brother's gaze to the ground. There, limp and pale, laid Boomer. Blood coated the snow around him and his face was turned to the side and his eyes stared lifelessly out towards the bay. He didn't look asleep. He just looked dead.

"What?" I muttered, pushing past Brick and falling to my knees beside Boomer. "Stop it Boomer, wake up." I grabbed his shoulder and shook him. "I said quit fucking around, get up!"

My hands, frozen and numb, grabbed his arm and shoved him lightly. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. My own breath felt oddly labored and thick and I scowled viciously. And then Brick was kneeling next to me, bumping carelessly into my shoulder and breathing heavily.

"He's dead," Brick was saying, but his voice sounded far away and unsure. "He's dead."

"No," I told him stubbornly as I pressed my hands to the hole above my brother's heart. Blood, still warm, gushed against my skin and I felt myself almost retch. The blood seeped between my fingers, emptying him. "He can't be dead. He was just…"

Brick's hand moved, shaking slightly, and closed Boomer's unseeing eyes. He touched our brother's hair and then his hand balled into a fist as he hunched over and shook with something. Anger, cold, sadness. I wasn't sure. I couldn't look away from Boomer. I couldn't figure out why he just wouldn't breathe.

And then they were pulling Boomer away from us, dragging his body across the snow. It was limp and pale and I waited for his eyes to open. I waited for him to grin and wake up and say something completely annoying. I waited but he just kept getting further away.

"Stop it," Brick said with an uneven, raged voice.

"We have to dump his body," A man said, casting his eyes away guiltily. "The bay will make sure no cops figure it out."

"Don't fucking touch him," Brick was shaking all over now. "If you dump him in the bay I swear to God I will cut each of you into strips and watch your blood melt away the snow, you bastards."

"Brick, we have to do this," Ace was there before us, a hand on Brick's shoulder as if that would restrain him. "We can't stop now."

"That's my brother," Brick's hands went flat against the snow as he leaned forward. "That's my fucking brother."

"I know, I know," Ace's grip tightened on his shoulder.

"There were no guns allowed," Brick hung his head, his voice thin. "Who shot him?"

The men around us shuffled but I could only stare at Boomer's body. Lifeless. Lifeless and being dragged away from me. His blonde hair was down around his face, his lips tilted in an almost smile, even in death. He wasn't moving. He'd never move again.

"I-I'm sorry," A man said from somewhere to my right. Our eyes met and he shrugged guiltily. "I reacted quickly. I just thought that…I…I didn't mean to shoot him. But, I mean, it was a fight right? People die in fights all the time and…"

He trailed off, realizing no one was on his side. He was alone. We were all alone.

"There were no guns allowed," Brick couldn't stand, couldn't even look up he was so angry. If he looked up he'd see Boomer's body. If he looked up it'd all be real. I understood this. I could feel what he felt. But unlike Brick, I could look. I could see our brother, dead and bled out.

And I could move.

And so I did.

I moved to where my brother had dropped after being shot. The gun, that had been dropped in shock, was cold as I grabbed it. The metal felt as if it burned me and I cocked it easily and aimed without a thought. The only thing I could see was my brother, dead and cold and alone.

We had promised to protect each other. We were born together. We had survived together. And now he was dead.

"Die," I said in the coldest of tones and the gunshot fired and the man who killed my brother fell to the ground. I fired again and again. Again until the snow was stained red and the gun stopped firing. But still I pulled the trigger, my hand steady and the gun clicking uselessly. I shot at him again and again.

"Die."

I whispered as I fell down to my knees, Brick shaking somewhere to my side and Boomer's lifeless form falling over the edge of the dock and sinking beneath the tangles of nets and icy waters of the bay. Sinking down into the black depths of the water and with him, I sunk into darkness.

'_It would be kind of nice…dying_' Boomer's voice echoed across my mind, the only place where it would ever exist again. My mind, where he and my mother lived in spirit alone. '_Imagine it. No more pain, no more fights. Just nothingness. After everything we've been through, I kind of welcome the idea of it. No more being poor, because I don't think money really makes a fucking difference when you're dead_.'

My eyes landed dully on Brick where he sat, pale and clutching at the ground with useless fists.

"Don't worry brother," I said into the cold, unforgiving air. "He's never going to have to fight again." I looked out at the bay. "And we will see him again. He'll wait." I blinked against a haze. "Death will keep him now. Until we join him, death will be his brother."

And then into the darkness we all slipped. It was inevitable. How had I fought it so long?

---

_Shot down said you never had the chance  
Took a ride on a suicide romance  
Could have sworn there was somebody home  
To facilitate the great unknown_

---

**And so…there you go.**

**Review nicely.**


	20. The Sound of White

_But if I listen to the dark,  
You'll embrace me like a star,  
Envelope me, envelope me..._

---

"You look stunning," Blossom commented as she sought to tie the back of my dress. The silken ribbons pulled tighter as she made a neat bow and I had to hold onto the bedpost with two hands to keep balance. "I'm done." She stood up and stepped to my side, a lopsided smile on her face.

I stared at my reflection in the tall, antique mirror in front of me. The pale, sullen girl staring back was hardly someone I recognized. I looked so odd, there in my white gown. My wedding gown. The silk clung to my hips, my stomach, and fell down around the floor like a puddle. I ran a hand over my stomach to feel the soft material.

"It's a pretty gown," Blossom continued, her hands moving to alter where the straps rested on my shoulders.

"It is," I agreed.

"I can't believe you're getting married next week," Blossom gave an odd laugh. I looked over at her. Her light pink eyes wouldn't meet mine. "I mean…after everything that happened I thought…"

"Well I'm getting married," I smiled brilliantly. "You were right, the whole city thing was just a phase. I'm over it now. I'm ready to marry Andrew."

"So you're back for good?" Blossom watched me closely, looking anything but convinced. "No more disappearing mysteriously into the night and calling off weddings?"

"No, no more of that," I shook my head. I felt kind of like an actress. A horrible, sick, cold actress. "I'm here to stay."

"Good," Blossom pulled me into a tight hug, her soft hair brushing my cheek. "Because that dress was expensive."

I giggled and she pulled back. Together we watched my reflection as I struck a pose. "I'm just happy it still fits. That would've been such a waste."

"Don't even joke about that," Blossom shook her head and laughed. "Your wedding planner is already going ballistic as it is. Trying to plan a wedding in one week is hard enough, but finding a new dress is almost impossible."

I nodded, trying to give off a confident smile. Blossom frowned and I knew I must have failed.

"Bubbles…" She began but I quickly spun around to face the bed. I gave off a high pitched giggle.

"Help me with my veil, I want to see what it looks like," My voice was high and cheery.

"Fine," She sighed, sounding annoyed and I knew she had a million questions for me. Questions I didn't want to answer. Questions I probably couldn't answer. "But why did you cut your hair? It was so pretty long."

I shrugged airily as I fingered the short strands that brushed my shoulders.

"It was a whim," I held still as she clipped the lacy veil to drape over my head.

"Everything with you is a whim," Blossom muttered. I stiffened and she froze, realizing that I was staring at her as if she'd struck me. Which is how I felt, but still who could blame her? She was right. Maybe everything I did was a whim, but at least I had the guts to do it. "Bubbles…" She tried to begin again, a hesitant look in her bright pink eyes.

"How do I look?" I cut her off, a wide grin and a saucy flick of my hair. In the mirror I saw myself dressed in the most expensive gown I'd ever worn. I still looked the same. I still looked terrified.

"Bubbles, stop it," Blossom grabbed my arm and drew my attention back to her. "What's going on with you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked with false confusion. This dress, this veil, the moment, this house—it all made me sick. _I_ made me sick. My stupidity was astounding. How had I wound up here again?

"Tell me what happened," Blossom pried. "Why are you back? What happened?"

"Nothing happened," I grabbed her hand off my arm and squeezed it as if for assurance, but inside the little girl in me wanted to hold on tight. Hold on forever. "I want to marry Andrew."

Blossom frowned, lines drawing on her forehead and her red lips turning down. She pulled her hand from mine, her head tilted. "Are you sure?"

"You're insane!" The sharp yell split through the air and distracted my sister and me. We turned to watch Buttercup fly into the room, her arms loaded up with so much material that she could barely see overtop. "You are _crazy_!"

"What are you yelling about?" Blossom sighed irritably at Buttercup's loud display. She walked around me and followed Buttercup to the bed and helped her set her burden down.

"These are the bridesmaid dresses," Buttercup said as if we should all fall down in shock at her words. Looking at the poof of material on the bed I could kind of see where her distress was coming from. The dresses were huge, poofy, and hideous.

"Good god," Blossom groaned, clearly dismayed as well.

They both began to pull and rift through the piles of blue lace and fabric and I moved to the chaise lounge chair in the corner. I sat down on the edge, my arms crossed over my stomach and my body hunched forward. I felt sick all over. Aching. Cold. I stared blankly down at the polished wood floor and just wished for about the millionth time since that morning that I could just disappear.

"Look at me!" Buttercup's voice made me look back up. She had changed into her dress and was standing in front of the mirror, a violent frown on her face and her hands fisted on her hips. The dress looked even worse than it did on the bed. I wished I could care. I wished I wanted any part of this wedding.

"I'm not wearing this," Blossom was groaning. She was still staring at the dress on the bed as if she couldn't bring herself to put it on. Suddenly her eyes met mine. "You don't really expect me to wear this right?"

"I don't care," I sighed. "Do want you want."

Blossom scowled at my cryptic response and turned back to the dress. Buttercup was apparently done looking at herself and instead was focusing on me, her green eyes narrowed. I smiled weakly before hunching back over and looking away. I felt shaky. I wanted to throw up.

"I want to throw up," I looked up to see Blossom cringing. Apparently she felt the same as me.

"Are they that bad?" I stood up quickly and walked over to the window, hoping that if I kept my back to my sisters they wouldn't notice me. I wanted to be left alone.

"Yes," They both chorused.

Outside the window the gray winter light hurt my eyes. I blinked and looked down at the Bussey Estate which was sprawling out into the distance. The gardens below were bare of all the usual flowers that coated them in the summer and spring. Now, in the dead of winter, everything was blanketed in the thick layer of snow that had fallen last night.

Last night felt like a lifetime ago.

"Bubbles, are you okay?" Blossom's voice was suddenly closer, softer, and I stiffened as her hand touched my shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I assured them as I quickly brushed the hot tears off my cheeks. I hadn't known I'd been crying. "Really."

"Your shoulders are shaking," Blossom's voice drifted further away and then closer again. She was uncertain of how to deal with me and my strange behavior. No one was used to anything but my chipper personality. I was worrying them. I pressed my forehead to the cold glass of the window, my breath fogging it up. "Are you crying?"

"God, don't cry," Buttercup said. "The dresses aren't _that_ bad. I'll wear it if it means that much to you."

"Thanks," I held my stomach tighter and the world outside blurred as more tears fell down.

"Yeah, we're just glad you're back," Blossom laughed softly. "When you called me this morning and told me I was so shocked." She paused and I felt her shift behind me. "I don't know why you decided to come back but it'll be good to see you around again. It feels as if you've been gone forever."

"Yeah, and now you're going to get married," Buttercup sighed. "Changing your last name and getting tied down. It's so weird."

I closed my eyes and breathed deep. Courage. I had to have courage. Strong people don't back down. They follow through. Butch would suck it up and be strong. I would too. I would beat this. I would follow through with my promise.

I stiffened when I felt Blossom wrap her arms around my shoulders, embracing me from behind. I sighed out and she rested her cheek on my bare shoulder. We stood silently together, her red hair falling against my skin as she looked out the window as well.

"Welcome back," She told me gently.

"Yeah, welcome back to your old world," Buttercup sighed and I heard the sound of her zipper and knew she was shedding the dress. "Here we have elaborate parties, luncheons, polo matches, and apparently ugly dresses."

"Shut up!" Blossom cut her off.

"Make me," Buttercup muttered so that we could hear her.

"Bubbles made the right choice by coming back here," Blossom pulled away and turned to face Buttercup. Once I regained my composure I faced them both, my face calm and a small, tight smile on my lips. "Quit harping on her about it."

"Oh please, she can handle it," Buttercup pushed her black hair behind her ears and frowned at us both. She slid the dress off her hips. "Right, Bubbles?"

"Right," I smiled blankly.

Buttercup quirked an eyebrow at me, her green eyes sharp. "Sometimes I don't know what's going through that head of yours." She tilted her head. "You act like you know what you want and then you change your mind again and again. How long are you going to stay here this time Bubbles?"

The words were harsh, but not meant to hurt. Rile me up, maybe. Or make me act honest. But still I felt nothing. Blossom was watching me awkwardly, torn between defending me and figuring out what was really going on. I wanted to tell them, but where did I even begin?

"Why are you back, Bubbles?" Buttercup slipped into her old jeans and black top.

'_Because I wanted to save somebody,_' I thought viciously, the silk of my gown beneath my fingers as I clenched them. My voice was drawn out and tired as I gave them a nonchalant answer. _'And I did it in the best way I knew how._'

Both of my sisters stared at me, silent.

"Help me out of this, would you?" I said before they could continue questioning me. I was bad at keeping secrets from them and I was afraid I'd tell them everything if they kept bothering me. Still they stood staring at me. "Please. I don't want to get it messed up before next week. That would be so bad."

At once they moved the help me. Blossom undid the tie in the back and unlaced the crisscrossing strands that held the opening together. Buttercup stood close, unfastening the veil from my hair and folding the lace up gently. I touched my hair, messing it up slightly.

"Thanks," I smiled as I slipped from the silken ivory and let it pool on the floor. I knelt and grabbed it. "White gets so dirty so fast."

"That's because it's innocent," Blossom said, draping a blanket over my shoulders as I hung the dress on the elaborately carved armoire. I frowned and sent her a questioning look. She smiled and shrugged oddly. "White is an innocent color. And like all innocent things, it is ruined easily." She stared at me intently. "And once it is ruined, it isn't easily fixed."

I swallowed and looked away from her, my heart pounding. She wasn't really talking about white. She'd been referring to me. But how could she have known what Butch and I did the night before? Could you really tell just by looking at me?

"You're wrong," I touched the dress again. "Once something innocent is ruined it can never be fixed."

Blossom's fingers ran through my hair. "What happened Bubbles?"

"I did something really stupid," I laughed and I felt a part of me aching to tell her everything but I held it back. "Like always."

"What did you do?" Buttercup frowned.

I said nothing and instead chose to get dressed, keeping my eyes averted from her. Simple things like getting into my jeans and sweater felt different than normal. I felt sore and stretched and used. But I didn't really mind. Not at all. Because if I just let my mind drift I could still feel Butch's hands on me. All over me. I could feel him.

But I couldn't let myself think of that. It was wrong. Blossom could read me so well anyway, she's probably be able to know what I was thinking of.

"I called the movers," I said lightly. "They're going to go pick up my stuff and bring it here. Most of it can just go in the trash, I guess. I really just need my clothes."

"So you're back for good?" Blossom asked.

"Aren't you happy?" I smiled at her.

"Are you happy?" She returned.

"Yes," I smiled. "Of course."

---

"Did the dress still fit?" Andrew asked as I met him halfway down the stairwell. He looked up at me and gave me a hopeful look. His eyes, however, spoke of his victory. He had won, after all. He had won me. I had come back. I was some sort of token. A conquest.

"Yes," I nodded stiffly. "Blossom and Buttercup are still having a fit about their dresses, though."

"Aw, it'll be okay. They'll love them eventually," He moved to stand on my step so that he had the height advantage. "Besides, once we're at the alter nothing else will matter. You'll see."

"Fine," I sighed. "That's fine."

Andrew frowned, his hazel eyes narrowing. "Don't try to sound too excited about it."

"What do you expect, Andrew?" I hung my head, feeling as if there were no fight left in me. "It's not like I want to marry you. We both know that."

"Well you better quit acting like a kicked puppy," He said to me softly, his rich smell filling my world as he leaned close. I felt sick. "You've been acting like this since I picked you up this morning. People are going to start noticing and ask questions."

"Let them ask," I sighed again and began to move to the next step when Andrew's hand lightly curled around my elbow and made me stop.

"What do you think I should tell them if they ask questions?" Andrew asked, his voice quietly annoyed. "Should I tell them you ran away from me? Or how about that you ran off to another man?" I looked up, my eyes sharpening as they met his. I glowered at him. "Or maybe I could tell them you got in some trouble and I had to bail you out with tons of money because you knew your daddy would never loan it to you without questions."

My cheeks heated with indignation and embarrassment. I broke free from his hold easily and stepped away from him.

"That money was to help-" I began.

"I don't care what I paid that man for, all I know is that I just signed a big check and I didn't do it for fucking Butch Sawyer." His eyes, heated, bore into mine. "I did it for you."

"Listen, I'll marry you," I said evenly. "Because that was our deal and I won't break that. But that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

"Just don't forget to smile around the guests," Andrew gave me a stern look. "We don't want any questions."

"Fine," I agreed and finally began descending the steps again, taking two at a time in hopes of getting away faster.

"You'll realize you made the right choice soon, Bubbles," Andrew called after me. "You were right to come to me."

I didn't pause as I continued on, trying not to shake as I pushed past the swinging door that led towards the kitchen. I wanted to keep running forever. But I had made a deal, even if it had backfired. Even if it sucked. I still had to stay.

---

I sighed as I slid out the back door, shutting the double French door behind me with a soft click. Beneath my feet the snow crunched and I drew my blanket tighter to me. The air was crisp and cold and around me the world was painted white with fresh snow. It came up to my ankles and even through the thick material of my pajamas I could feel the chill.

I looked around and noticed I was alone out in the dark except for one lone worker still trying to complete his chores.

"What're you doing out here, ma'am?" The worker, busy shoveling snow off the patio, turned and frowned at me. He eyed my attire which wasn't completely logical for the snow. My sweater was worn, the red blanket from my bed was draped over my shoulders, and my pink pajama pants were tucked into my boots.

"I couldn't sleep," I told him with a smile before looking up at the sky. Unlike in the city, from the Bussey Manor you could see some more stars. Hundreds more. They glittered above me and I felt small in their wake. I took a deep breath.

"You should go inside," The worker was scowling as he continued to clear the cobblestone. The slight tilt of his lips and the gruffness of his voice reminded me slightly of Butch and I smiled fondly. "You'll freeze and then I'll get in trouble for letting you stay out."

"I'll be fine," I told him, still slightly awed by the similarities he had with Butch. I wondered if I only thought so because I was being so nostalgic. I wanted to see Butch and therefore my mind created his image in others. The most random people had looked like Butch lately. "Why are you out here so late?"

"This has to be cleared before the guests come," He said stiffly.

My lips pressed into a line and I looked back up at the sky. Ah yes, the guests. The guests for my wedding. My wedding that was happening much too soon.

"Congratulations, by the way," The man continued, although he didn't seem as if he really wanted to say so. More like he knew it was the polite thing to say. "On the marriage." He clarified.

"Thank you," I gave him a soft look, my body already feeling numb from the cold.

That was real. The cold, the snow, the frigid wind. That was real. So was my wedding, my fiancé, my impending life as Mrs. Bubbles Bussey. It was all real. It was reality and I needed to accept it. I'd learned a lot of things in the city. Things I'd never forget. And one thing I now knew was that no matter how much life may suck it is still real and it will happen. Might as well suck it up and deal with it.

Moaning and crying about my wedding wasn't going to stop it from happening. Moping around and pining for a man I loved wouldn't bring me back to him. Life was about actions and events. Complaining and being weak would get me nowhere.

I'd cried already. I'd been plagued by nightmares of Butch and how I'd left him when he still needed me. When I still needed him.

But I needed to stop it all, because this was my life now. My wedding was in four days and I had to accept that.

"You want to be an icicle for your wedding?" The worker was looking at me harshly and I gave him a small shrug. His shoulders looked stiff and he held the shovel loosely. "You're getting married in a little under a week. You should be more careful. You don't want something bad to happen to you before you get married."

"I don't think I've seen you around here," I frowned at him, suddenly noticing he wasn't the type of man the Bussey family usually hired. This man, now that I looked at him properly, had tattoos on his neck that showed over the collar of his thick coat. A long scar ran along his forehead and his eyes were sullen. I swallowed. "What was your name again?"

"My name doesn't matter," He said as he sat the shovel down and took a step towards me. I felt cold but not from the snow. I took a step back, suddenly feeling more than stupid for going out in the porch by myself.

I stared at the man who clearly was not a worker. How had I not been wary? Who shoveled snow at midnight?

"Who are you?" I sounded brave as I raised my chin. My eyes narrowed at him. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to give you something," He walked towards me and this time I stood my ground and barely even flinched when he reached towards me. I expected to feel him grab me but instead he held out an envelope. "This is for you."

"What is it?" I asked, staring at the crinkled envelope he'd pulled from his jacket, but not taking it from him.

"I was told to deliver it to you," He told me, ignoring my question.

"Who told you to deliver it to me?" I reached out and grabbed the envelope with stiff, cold fingers. I tucked it back under my blanket and pulled it tighter around me.

"Sawyer," The man said, seemingly unpleased with having been assigned this task. But I wasn't really caring. I was still stuck on his answer.

"Sawyer?" I choked out. "Butch Sawyer?"

The man said nothing and I frowned.

"Well? Which Sawyer was it? Butch, Boomer, Brick?" I pressed, feeling a burst of hope deep in my stomach before I squashed it down. "Never mind," I sighed and looked away from the man. "I suppose it doesn't really matter anymore."

We both stood there, silent.

"I should leave now," The man seemed almost awkward to say so.

"Fine," I said as I stared down at the snow. I felt so cold I thought I would break.

He turned to leave from whichever way he'd broken into. He didn't even bother to grab the shovel which he probably had stolen from the supply shed anyway. I felt compelled to watch him go, although I wasn't sure why. No, that's a lie. I knew I wanted to follow him. Go back to the city. But I couldn't.

He kept walking further away, leaving me where I was and I felt my whole body ache to follow the path he had made. Follow him back to Butch.

"Wait!" I called after him before taking off into a run. The air was like fire in my lungs as I tried to reach him, my blanket falling into the snow and the envelope crumpling in my fist. "Wait, please!" I panted and my breath formed thick clouds when I finally reached him.

"What?" He scowled down at me again.

"Please, could you just give him a message for me?" I asked quickly. If anyone saw me out here they would be suspicious and if Andrew found out he'd be mad. I had to talk fast.

The man nodded, not even trying to pretend he didn't know who I was talking about. A part of me felt relieved that it really was Butch he was talking about. At least now I knew he was okay. He'd survived the fight.

I swallowed and fought down a blush. "Could you tell him…tell him that I'm sorry? And that I only want him to be safe and happy. Please. Just tell him that." My words were rushed and fumbled but still I forced them out.

The man stared at me for a moment before nodding and leaving towards the rose gardens. I let out a breath, sinking down to my knees and into the snow. I would probably die. Catch pneumonia and hypothermia and die. I felt the wet snow seep through my pants and hit my chilled skin. I felt it all but I couldn't move. Couldn't bring myself to stand back up. If I stood up I'd follow him again.

"Hey!" The gruff tone of the man made my head snap up to see him hovering over me again. He was holding my discarded blanket and looking at me as if I were crazy. "I told you to get inside or I'd get in trouble. I can't have you freezing to death out here."

I sniffed and nodded as he draped my blanket over my shoulders again. He didn't offer me his hand but I didn't really want it anyway. I stood up on my own and brushed the snow from my clothes. I sniffed again and clenched my fingers tightly, trying to work some feeling back into the frozen digits.

"You're practically turning blue," the man was mumbling.

I shivered and shook my head. "Don't forget my message," I told him as I backed up towards the house. "Please."

"Go thaw out," The man shook his head back at me.

I smiled and nodded. "Thank you."

I ran back to the large house, eager for some heat and holding tightly to the envelope in my hand. It was a message from Butch. A letter maybe or maybe even a bill for all the money I owed him from the time I stayed with him. Either way, I couldn't open it. I knew I couldn't, no matter how much I wanted to.

I went into the house and did not look back.

If I opened the letter I would break. I would shatter into a million pieces. He hated me, I knew that. How could he not? I had left him without any reason. I had left him and not even said goodbye.

He probably thought the worst of me and I could only hope that was for the best. At least one of us could maybe move on. Still I felt nothing but love for him. The horrible, inescapable kind of love. I couldn't read what that letter said or else I'd want to go back to him. Run back to him. And I couldn't do that.

I hid the letter in the folds of my wedding dress as it hung in my room. I'd find a better place later for it. I'd burn it, rip it up, throw it out. But I wouldn't read it. I couldn't.

---

_I stood in the swell of a storm. Ice cut through the wind as it howled around me. The snow fell so thickly the world seemed white. _

"_Bubbles, come inside," Andrew was pulling gently at my arm. Pulling me back towards the house. I stood resolute and unheeding as I stared out into the storm. Andrew pulled again. "Come with me."_

_I couldn't follow him. I didn't want to. _

_I didn't want to follow anyone. I wanted to make my own path. I wanted…_

"_Bubbles, come with me," Andrew tried in vain._

_My eyes stayed transfixed on the downfall in front of me. Through the haze of the storm a figure was forming. It was far off, but approaching, and my heart ached._

"_Bubbles," Andrew tried to move me but I stood still. The wind beat at my back and tried to send me to my knees but I stood still._

_And the figure was before me now, stopping only a few feet away, where I could see the familiar set of his shoulders and sweep of his hair. The storm gave birth to his green eyes and broken smile. Butch watched me closely and slowly reached out his hand for me to grab. _

"_Bubbles we have to go inside," Andrew didn't seem to notice Butch. "Please."_

_I opened my mouth but the wind swallowed up anything I would ever say. So instead of talking I moved. I stepped forward and grabbed Butch's hand and brought it to my lips. I kissed his knuckles and looked up at him. He smiled softly and I felt like crying. But before I could say a thing the wind swelled up again and with a gust of air Butch was gone._

_I let my hand fall back down._

_I looked around but the storm had erased every trace of the man I had just touched. _

_The white abyss seemed like a wall around me._

_I turned and followed Andrew back into the house._

---

_My silence solidifies,  
Until that hollow void erases you,  
Erases you so I can't feel at all.  
But if I never feel again, at least that nothingness  
Will end the painful dream of you and me..._

---

'_Today the body of a local gangbanger was found floating in the bay and cops are scrambling to find out…_' The news reporter droned on the television. Behind her was a taped off crime scene where police officers walked around the dismal docks that were a few blocks away from my old apartment.

I stared at the television with widened eyes. The story wasn't too uncommon for the city. In fact it was sadly an almost everyday occurrence but still this was not like any other death. My mind slowed to a halt as I stared at the picture they had up on the corner of the screen.

It was a mug shot of a man. Probably the first picture the police could get a hold of. He had messy blonde hair and dark blue eyes and a cocky smile that echoed his personality as he held his fingers in a peace sign for the cop who had taken his mug shot. The man in the picture looked used to being arrested. He looked like energy and life and trouble all rolled into the body of a man.

A man I knew.

"Boomer…" I gasped softly. My hands went up to cover my mouth as I shook my head in disbelief. Surely this was wrong…what was Boomer's picture doing on the screen?

"What was that?" My wedding planner, Mrs. Kortch, flicked me a look as she sat down the schedule she had been reading to me. I didn't reply and could only shake my head at her as she stared at me over the rim of her glasses. "Bubbles, are you even listening to me?"

"That man…" I pointed to the television and she frowned before turning around to see what I was talking about. She listened for a moment as the reporter went on about a fishing boat pulling up the body by accident before she shook her head and sighed.

"Such a tragedy," She shrugged. "So many lives go to waste over drugs and territory." I opened my mouth but couldn't talk as she reached back and flicked off the set. She settled herself back into her chair. "Now, where were we?" She muttered as she looked back over the page. "Ah yes, you'll arrive at the chapel-"

"I have to go, excuse me," I blurted as I pushed back from the table and ran for the door. The sound of Mrs. Kortch's surprised gasp followed me as I hurried up the steps, heels clicking and my mind now racing. My heart felt as if it would burst through my chest it was pounding so hard.

Boomer couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. It wasn't possible. It wasn't…

The letter was still in the folds of my dress from the night before and I fumbled with the silk until I found it. My fingers shook as I ripped open the crinkled paper and pulled out the note inside. I looked it over quickly, the hurried scrawl on the page was sloppy and it took me two times before I could completely make out a few of the messy letters.

'_Boomer is dead. Audley got away. When you need me you'll know where to find me—Butch'_

I blinked and read the short letter again. And then once again. Boomer was dead. Butch had said so right there. He had said it in three words. Such a monumental tragedy lived in the lines of that letter and yet Butch was still so blunt about it. It could hardly register in my mind that it was real. The rest of the note seemed so vague. Audley got away? How? And where was he talking about? And how was he so positive I would come to find him?

And how the _hell_ did Boomer die? When? _Why_?

"Bubbles?" Mrs. Kortch was now in my room as well, her tone reprimanding. "We still have a lot to do, you shouldn't have run off."

"He's dead," I whispered in disbelief.

"What? Who's dead?" She asked.

I looked up at her and frowned. I could tell her about Boomer but it wouldn't make a difference. She didn't know Boomer. No one did. He was just an orphan. Just another gangbanger who died in the midst of some stereotypical fight. To the world his death was nothing important. Not even a blip on the radar. To the world his death was just three words in a note and the beginning of the six o'clock news.

But to me…to my world…

"I shouldn't have left," I told her as I shook my head. I understood this. I hated myself for realizing it too late. I should have never made that promise with Andrew, no matter if my intentions were good. "I should have never left."

"What's going on?" She frowned at me.

What was Butch going through right now? What about Brick? How could they keep going without their brother? Their whole lives were all about being there for each other and now…now the worst had happened. They had been torn apart. Oh, Butch must be a mess. He must be going crazy inside himself.

My heart ached. Butch couldn't handle this. He wasn't strong enough. He wasn't. He pretended to be but I knew the truth.

This would be too much.

"Bubbles?" Mrs. Kortch pressed.

"I don't feel very well Mrs. Kortch," I winced as I stood. The letter was still in my hands and my knees felt weak but my voice was strong. "Please go get Andrew for me. Tell him I need to speak with him, I'm feeling…ill."

She looked put off and I couldn't blame her. I was being rude and I felt bad but I needed her to leave. "Of course." She muttered as she left the room.

I stood there for a moment, unsure of myself, but only for a moment. With a self-calming breath I moved about the room, picking up my things that I had discarded in my frenzy and trying to collect my thoughts. I had to get in contact with Butch somehow. Make sure he was okay. Figure everything out so that I could help him.

He was in pain right now. I knew it. I could almost feel it within myself like a personal wound. My own heart broke for him. He had lost his brother. I couldn't even fathom what he was going through right now.

"Oh, Butch," I whispered. "I'm so sorry."

In my mind I stood next to him. In my mind it was all okay.

But only in my mind.

---

"What do you expect me to do about it?!" Andrew practically growled as he paced my room. I sat on the edge of my bed, watching him warily.

"Nothing!" I sighed. "I don't expect you to do anything. But if you could just let me-"

"No!" He snapped. "You aren't going back."

"I won't go back for good," I pleaded. "Just for a day so that I can help him."

"He doesn't need your help," Andrew scowled.

"But he does," I replied evenly.

"How can I trust you?" He asked sharply. "How can I know this isn't some plot you've made up so that you can run back to the city and never return?"

"I wouldn't lie about this," I told him softly. "Not about something so important."

"I don't believe you!" He yelled as he slammed his fist down on the desk. I flinched but knew he wouldn't hurt me. "You aren't going back."

"Please," I pleaded, standing up and crossing over to my irate fiancé. I moved to touch his arm but stopped and pulled back. He saw this and scowled.

"What now? Are you never going to touch me?" He asked viciously.

"We both know that I won't ever want to," I said and I saw that my words stung him badly.

"We're getting married in three days, Bubbles," He sighed. "This is ridiculous. I can't be worried that you'll be running off to the city at any moment's notice. I can't explain that to the people at the country club or work. They'll think you're having an affair and they'll be right. I won't be made a fool of."

I looked at him closely and frowned. "Listen to yourself Andrew. This whole situation is so messed up. You are a good man, you don't have to resort to blackmailing your wife for the rest of your life. We could both be happy and you know it. Just not with each other."

"I gave my word that I would marry you," He said in a low, strained voice. "I told everyone. I have faced my mother's disapproval, my colleagues' sympathy, and our neighbors' false condolences. All because of you and your flighty ways I have become the main source of pity and gossip for everyone we know. But enough is enough, Bubbles. I've made up your mind for you. You're staying with me and that's final."

"But we will never be happy," I grabbed for his arm and he swatted my hand away.

"Damn happiness!" He shouted and I stepped back, startled. "I don't care if we are both miserable! I will not give you up!"

I swallowed and stepped back again, my eyes wide as I saw him try to collect himself.

"Pride is a dangerous thing, Andrew," I told him quietly as he stood before me and breathed in deeply.

"And so is love," He shot back.

"I have to go back and see him," I said after a moment of tense silence. I would go back to the city if was the last thing I did. "I have to make sure he's alright. Just this once."

"You will not go," He seemed to be reeling back his temper but still I kept my distance. Slapping someone around and violence were not just reserved for lower class people. I'd know many husbands who'd beat their wives and still show up smiling to parties and fundraisers. No, the rich were just quieter about their flaws, but they still had plenty.

"You can't stop me," I whispered to him, wondering if he would get angrier again.

Instead he stared cruelly at me.

"I'm a nice man, Bubbles. We both know that. Why are you putting me through this?"

Guilt hit my stomach but I shook it away. "I'm not putting you through anything that you aren't inflicting on me as well. We're both hurting here, Andrew. All you have to do is let me go and we can end it all."

"No," He whispered.

"I'm sorry!" I finally broke, yelling at him. "I'm sorry I came to you for the money! It was stupid of me, I know that now. I thought it was my only option and I was rash. I only did it thinking I was saving the man I love and that it would be worth it if he could be alright. But he's not alright! He needs me right now and I can't leave him alone. Can't you see? I did all of this for _him_! I _will not_ let you stop me from helping him."

"We made a deal-" He began to protest.

"I don't care anymore!" I turned and began grabbing some clothes and shoving them into a bag. "I don't care! I don't care if everyone thinks I'm a horrible person! That used to matter to me but it doesn't anymore. I don't need anyone's approval. I'm not here to impress you or make you think I'm happy. I just want to go back to the city!"

"What will I tell our guests, huh?" He asked. "What about all the money my family spent on this wedding? What about all the money I used to pay off that man?"

I gave him a bitter smile. "Tell the guests what you want, Andrew. I don't care. My father will pay you back for everything. I'll tell him what happened, he needs to know anyway. I should have gone to him in the first place."

Andrew walked up to me, grabbing my bag from me and tossing it against the wall. I moved to go get it and he grabbed my shoulders firmly but not painfully. He breathed angrily against my face, his eyes only inches from mine.

"You would put your father out like that? You would make him spend that much money to support you and your convict fling?" He mocked.

"Yes," I laughed oddly. "Yes, I would. And I will spend every day for the rest of my life working to pay him back if I have to. I don't care."

He watched me, suddenly seeming unsure. Desperate.

"Let me go, Andrew," I said calmly.

"No," He ground out as he pulled me against him, pushing his lips to mine in a furtive kiss. I winced as he tried to push me back towards the bed. When the back of my knees hit the mattress I put my hands to his chest and pushed as hard as I could. Realizing I still wasn't kissing him back he let me push him away with a sense of remorse.

"I felt nothing," I told him plainly as I grabbed the bag off the floor.

"Don't lie," He snapped.

"I'm not lying," I told him. "I felt nothing. We aren't the same people who dated those years ago, Andrew. We aren't in love. If you force me to marry you I will be miserable for the rest of my life. People will notice and we both know that. I will smile and pretend I'm a happy wife but everyone will still know. And you will know too. You will know that I will slowly begin to hate you for making me marry you. You will know that every time you kiss me and every time we sleep together I will be thinking of Butch."

He took a step back and then another before sitting down on the chair at the desk.

"You'll regret leaving me," He said but this time it lacked the harsh tones as before.

"No," I walked up to him and put my hand on his shoulder. "I won't. And soon you'll see it's all for the better."

I let my hand slide off his shoulder as I walked from the room. I would not marry him. A deal is a deal but I had made a deal with Butch before anything else had happened. I had told him I'd stay with him. That was a promise I was willing to keep.

---

I stepped from the cab and a sense of foreboding hit me. Ace's house stood before me, seemingly normal in the urban neighborhood, but inside was the deadliest and most powerful gang in the city. And inside was Butch. I paid the driver and began to walk up the sidewalk. Snow crunched beneath my feet and I noticed nothing had been shoveled and the house looked dim.

"Ace!" I called as I knocked on the door. "It's Bubbles, let me in!"

The door cracked open slightly and I looked to see a barrel of a gun stick out of the crack and aim at me. I swallowed as I saw a pair of eyes peering from inside the dim house.

"Who is it?" The voice of Big Billy was oddly comforting and I sighed.

"It's Bubbles, Billy," I said as calmly as I could with a gun still pointing at me. "Remember? Butch's…" I trialed off, slightly unsure but he still wasn't lowering the gun so I continued. "Butch's girlfriend."

"Oh yeah!" He seemed to remember as he opened the door the rest of the way and put the gun down. Quickly he grabbed my arm, pulled me into the house, and shut and locked the door again.

"What was that all about?" I found myself smiling at the big man despite my nervousness. The further away from Andrew I had got made me less dismal, but the thought of facing Butch again still made me want to cry.

"Uhm…Sorry," He said, patting me on the head. "The police have been coming around a lot asking questions. We have to be careful."

"You'd open a door with a gun for a cop?" I asked, honestly shocked.

"I'd open a door with a gun for anyone," He said in that almost innocently blunt way he had. I smiled and nodded at him.

"Is Butch here?" I asked, half hopeful and half anxious.

"Uh-yeah," He muttered, looking around. "The other guys went out. Ace isn't going to come back to his house after tonight so they've been getting everything out of here. I think Butch might still be here."

"Okay," I smiled although his words worried me. I knew they had to be cautious of the cops now, not just the Audley Brothers, and I knew they were still dealing with loosing Boomer.

"Be careful if you find him, though," Big Billy continued. "Butch is not very nice right now. He gets really rough and mean if you just look at him wrong. Ace says he's like a strung out rubber band ready to snap. He says to be careful."

I swallowed."Is Butch upstairs?"

Billy shrugged and nodded at the same time so I went up the stairs, realizing it was probably only Billy and I in the house if Butch wasn't there. I wondered if I was ready to see Butch. Maybe I should think up a plan before I saw him, if he was even in the house. I couldn't hear anyone else and someone else would've come to check everything out if they heard me at the door, right?

"Butch?" I opening the first door I could find to see an empty bedroom. I frowned and moved to the next one. The old wooden door creaked as I opened it and I stilled when I saw Butch moving about the room, his movements slow and almost thoughtless. He was putting some books into a bag and he hadn't heard me yet, his distracted behavior was very unlike him.

I watched him for a second, feeling conflicted. I had come back to help him right? Why was I so nervous? Why did the very sight of him make me want to smile and cry at the same time?

I had missed him. It had only been a short while but I had missed him. And now he needed me and I would help him, no matter how scared I was.

"Butch," I said again, louder this time.

He spun quickly at me, gun suddenly drawn and face contorted with anger. I stood still, feeling sick at the sight. When he stood there, pointing a gun at me, it was somehow ten times worse than when Big Billy had done it. I opened my mouth and then closed it, too shocked to really speak. His dark green eyes took a second before they flickered with recognition and I realized I was very lucky he hadn't shot me on instinct.

"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered as he slowly lowered the gun, no emotion on his face and his whole body drawn tight. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just…"

I trailed off and he said nothing, just stood there staring at me like he wasn't sure if he wanted to shoot me or not. His knuckles were white around his gun and his face was a controlled picture of rage. I watched a storm pass behind his eyes before they went completely cool. He didn't look relieved to see me but I took it as a good sign when the gun fell uselessly to the floor.

"_Butch_," I tried again, shocking myself with the amount of emotion put into his name.

"You're back?" He asked in a void tone and I felt tears well up in my eyes.

"I got your note," I whispered. "Butch, I'm so sorry. Boomer-"

"Is dead," He finished coldly for me as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He stared blankly at me for a moment, sizing me up, before pulling out a cigarette and lighting up as if I wasn't even there. He proceeded to ignore me a few minutes as I tried to figure out what I should say.

"How can you be so cruel?" I finally asked, my voice thick with pity. I knew he would try this. Try to push everything away with that scary calm he had. He had no other way to deal with his loss. He never learned to mourn, only to use violence and control.

I loved Butch because he was strong. But he wasn't always strong and I loved that about him too. Despite his own idea that he was invincible and coldhearted, I knew that deep down he was scared. He was always scared. Scared of losing, scared of dying. Deep down he was still that little boy that watched his mom get loaded into an ambulance.

And I loved him for all of that. Even if he may never fully recover emotionally from what he has had to live through, I loved him. Broken or not.

But this was too much to keep inside. He would snap, just as Ace said. He was more dangerous now, sitting before me on a bed, smoking a cigarette, than he had ever been before.

"It's easy," He said dully as he blew a plume of smoke into the air and glanced at me from the corner of his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and looked bruised as he stared at me through the haze of smoke. "I've been practicing my whole life."

I shook my head. "Stop being like this." I said gently. "It's me you're talking to, not some guy off the street. You can trust me."

"Ha!" He barked and I flinched. "Trust you? How can I trust you when you insist on leaving me whenever you feel like it?"

"I left to save you!" I fought back.

He gave me a cold smile, lifting his arms up mockingly. "Save me? Well I think you fucking failed, sweetheart. Do I look saved to you?"

"Quit being mean to me. You're only acting this way because you're scared," I pleaded with him.

"I'm not the scared one," He bit out, gesturing towards me. "You're the one that hasn't moved out of the doorway."

I bit my lip, knowing he was baiting me but he left me no choice. I walked into the dim room, the only light came from the gray winter day outside the window. Butch watched me approach with guarded eyes, another wave of smoke emitting from his mouth as he casually leaned back.

"Why'd you come back?" He asked me after a moment of me standing there, silently waiting for him to stop staring.

"You asked me to," I replied.

"No," He took another drag from his cigarette. "I didn't."

"Fine," I rolled my eyes. He was going to be difficult about everything. "I _wanted_ to."

"Why? So you could come back and help your charity case again? That's all this is to you. I'm just some fucking fantasy you're playing out. Some sick drama. I bet you got all excited when you heard about Boomer. It adds a cute little twist in the plot, doesn't it?"

The room echoed with the sound of my slap. I glared at him, my palm stinging as he narrowed his eyes at me. Already a handprint was forming on his cheek but he seemed to ignore it and just continue smoking, calmly looking at me as if he'd like to knock me across the face for hitting him.

It was hard for me to admit I loved such a man, bitter and vindictive. I wanted to keep hitting him. Slap some sense into him.

"Quit talking like that," I balled up my fists. There was a lump in my throat but I couldn't cry despite how much his words hurt. "This isn't you."

"Wrong, this is exactly who I am," He snapped.

"No! It isn't!" I was almost shaking with anger. "You've done this before. You always push me away when you need me the most."

"I don't need anyone," He said in a deadly tone.

I went quiet, my anger vanishing and being replaced by a sharp since of protectiveness. I tried to remember that despite how old Butch was or how strong he was or how much power he had; he really was just as scared as everyone else. After all these years he still could not deal with the loss of someone he loved and so he chose to focus on something else, anything else. And now he was choosing anger.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered.

"For what?" He scoffed, chucking the cigarette on the floor and stepping on it.

"For everything," I looked down and then sighed. "I should have been here."

He said nothing, just continued to look down at the ruined cigarette on the floor. I knew he heard me and I knew he wouldn't answer me. But the fact that he couldn't look at me gave me hope. I continued.

"I shouldn't have left you." I told him quietly. "I know that now. I thought I was helping but I just hurt us both."

"Don't be stupid," He muttered to the floor. "I don't give a shit. I don't need your help. You could have stayed away for all I care."

I smiled softly. "If that's true, why did you write me that note?"

He looked up at the slightly teasing lilt in my voice. He green eyes, bloodshot and wary, watched me.

"I wish I could help you somehow, Butch," I admitted. "I wish I could take all of this off your shoulders. It's too much for one person to handle."

"I'm fine," He said but his voice wasn't harsh, just quiet.

I reached forward and trailed my fingers through his thick black hair. It curled slightly around my fingers from the lack of a haircut and I gently used my nails to stroke his hair. He watched my eyes, seemingly debating if he wanted to push me away.

"Remember that time you were sick?" I asked, letting myself get lost in the soft texture of his hair. My heart was still beating fast from our heated words but still my whole body ached for him. I wanted him to be better. I hated for him to be like this. "It was right after we met."

He said nothing but I knew he remembered.

"You were really sick and I came into you apartment to check on you. I was so scared," I laughed lightly and this time I caught something flicker behind his eyes. "But you were so miserable I had to help you. I remember because right when I came up to you I ran my fingers through you hair."

"Yeah," He said coldly. "And then you pulled some of my hair out."

"That was an accident," I giggled and I saw some sort of warmth touch at him although he blinked it away. "If you hadn't jumped I wouldn't have done that."

"Well you shouldn't have come into my apartment anyway," He sighed. "You've always been more trouble than you're worth."

I smiled and nodded. "That seems like so long ago. I never would have dreamed of all that has happened since then."

"Everything has gotten worse since then," He said. "It feels like we've gone through hell and back."

I laughed and watched my fingers play with the ends of his hair. "It's been worth it though." I admitted. "How weird is that?"

He said nothing for a moment and then, "You drive me crazy."

"Ditto," I grinned.

I sunk beside him on the bed, my arms wrapping around his shoulders and my face buried in his neck. He didn't hug me back but he didn't push me away. It was enough, I hoped. I couldn't think of anything to say so I just wished it would be enough just to be near him. I ignored the initial tensing and allowed him to relax. We sat there for a minute and I breathed against his skin. When I felt his hand touch the small of my back I closed my eyes.

"They killed him," His voice was low and harsh and I felt the words vibrate against me. I said nothing, just stroked his back although I knew he'd never cry. "They killed him and dumped him into the bay."

"I'm so sorry," I said softly, honestly.

"I just got so mad. He shouldn't have died. We weren't supposed to use guns…" He trailed off, his voice slow and I waited for him to continue. "I killed the man that shot him. I had to. I would have died if I didn't."

I said nothing, my heart suddenly pounding again as I buried further against him in an attempt to escape what he was saying.

"I was so mad I picked up his gun and-"

"Stop…." I begged. "Please."

He fell silent and we both said nothing. Soon his arms wrapped around me tighter and I knew he was imagining the scene again. I wanted to take it all back. Everything bad had happened because I was stupid and foolish and thought paying off Grant was better than telling Butch where he was.

Stupid me, I should have called the cops. Anything would have been better than this.

"What now?" Butch's voice startled me and I pulled away to see him calmly waiting for my response.

"Now we stay together," I smiled weakly at him and he knew that I was scared but didn't call me out. "And we face anything that comes at us together, got it?"

"I might not be able to protect you," He said shaking his head. "With Boomer I-"

I put my hands on his cheeks and felt the rough stubble. He quieted as I stared him in the eyes.

"We'll protect each other, okay?" I told him softly. "We're in this together."

His tried to smirk but his muscles seemed to deny the action so instead he just nodded.

"What's the plan?" I asked him.

He looked away and then back at me.

"We get Grant."

---

The police were involved in this now. Way too involved. The body count was rising and already the police were looking to the Audley Boys and the Gang Greene Gang. It was only a matter of time before they linked all the underground crime with Ace, got enough evidence, and started slapping cuffs on everyone. Butch and everyone else knew that. They knew they weren't only fighting other gangs now, but a team of officers that have so many files on them that they could easily make the FBI's most wanted list.

But the Gang Greene Gang didn't have any intentions of leaving the streets without one more body in the ground.

Grant Audley.

He was still alive and as long as that was true none of the gang would go to jail without a fight. I felt fear for the officers standing in the way of these men. I stood against the side of a building, looking out at the city streets and I hoped it all didn't come crumbling down on top of me.

Butch had gone inside the building to talk to Ace but I was told to wait outside. Apparently the rest of the gang was just as irate as Butch had been when I'd come back, but I doubted I could calm them the same way I had calmed Butch.

I giggled weakly. Butch would kill them all if I ever tried to touch them as I'd touched Butch, no matter how calming it may be.

I sighed and leaned back against the building. The bricks caught on the material of my coat and my gloved hands reached up to tuck my scarf more securely around my neck. I was freezing and miserable and wished Butch would hurry up. He'd only gone in a few minutes ago but I was starting to get numb.

A man walked out from a nearby alley and I watched him warily. For some reason my heart started pounding heavily and the hair on my neck stood up. I watched the man. He looked as if he hadn't noticed me but he was walking right at me and I stiffened. The weight of the gun in my coat pocket reminded me of Butch's warning to shoot first and ask questions later. It was my own gun Brick had given me, the one I'd doubted that I'd ever use. I wondered if I could use it now, if I needed to.

I never got to find out because as I stood away from the wall, watching the big man walk straight at me, something knocked into me from behind. I fell down against the concrete, awkwardly catching myself while scraping my knees and palms through my clothes. I moved to get up but a foot kicked into my side and sent me back down to the ground.

"Mhn," I groaned as pain shot through my body and another kick hit me in the side.

"Quick, get her in the van before he comes out," A panicked voice insisted but my mind could hardly comprehend it as another searing kick hit my side and I felt myself curl up in a weak attempt to stop the hurting.

"Nah," The voice of the man kicking me grunted. "I wanna make her scream."

"Make her scream later," The first voice said tightly. "If Butch comes out we're totally fucked. Grant told us that hurting her would only make him more dangerous."

The man stopped kicking for a moment and despite my pain I managed to shakily get to my knees. My ribs felt not only broken but shattered. I blinked up at the two men, feeling as if I were about to vomit, and opened my mouth to scream. Before I could they yanked me roughly to my feet. The sudden movement made the whole turn and spots of black appeared.

The sound of screeching tires was heard but only distantly as I began to black out. The last thing I felt was being shoved into a warm metal floor. I heard doors shut and again the screeching tires as everything began to lurch and sink away.

We were supposed to stay together.

This was why.

---

"Why am I here?" I asked Grant as he pointedly ignored me. He was talking to another man in his gang but with a quick wave he dismissed everyone from the room. I watched them file out and then it was just Grant and me. I frowned. "Why am I here?"

"Why do you think?" He sighed as he walked towards me. We were in some sort of building but there were no windows so I couldn't tell exactly where we were. There were machine parts, guns, and pieces of a rudder strewn across the floor. I figured we must be near the docks.

"I won't get you more money," I snapped at him. "You had the chance to pay off your debts and you wasted it. You tricked me. I won't fall for it again."

He smiled sadly and approached me. I wasn't tied up or anything. It wasn't necessary. My side felt almost useless due to those kicks from earlier. The only reason I could sit up at all was because of the wall I was leaning against. I doubted I could stand. And since they had taken the gun from me when I was unconscious I had absolutely no way of protecting myself.

"I don't need your money," He said. "Your boy took my money from me. I want it back."

I narrowed my eyes at him despite my fear.

"It won't make a difference," I tried to reason with him. "Can't you see? Who cares who has more money or territory? In the end you all are miserable and hurting. No amount of money can fix that. You are alone and in danger because of your own stupid choices."

He gritted his teeth and then let out a sigh. "I know this." He told me. "I've known this for a long time."

"Then why don't you just stop?" I almost pleaded. "Why didn't you just stop all of this when you had the chance?"

He smiled. "Because, like you said, it doesn't make a difference. In the end we're still all miserable."

"I didn't say that exactly," I shook my head. "It _can_ change. You just aren't even trying anymore."

"I'm trying not to get killed." He barked suddenly and I pushed myself further back against the wall. His eyes were sharp as they watched me. "All those men you just saw listen to me. For now. Soon they'll overthrow me and kill me. It doesn't matter if I pay off their debts. They're tired of me. I've run my course." He ran his hand across his face. "So why shouldn't I try to get away?"

I frowned. "But you started this gang."

"I wish I never had," He smiled at me. "Trust me, my dear, I wish it every night. I've lost everything because of this gang. I've lost friends, money, integrity,-"

"Your brother?" I guessed for him. He froze, his eyes widening slightly before looking away.

"You were the brat who took my journal, huh?"

"Yes," I admitted. "I thought it could help me understand."

"Did it?" He asked gruffly. "Do you understand now?"

"No," I whispered. "I don't get why anyone would hurt someone. I don't get why pain is the only means to power you saw."

"It's sick, isn't it?" He laughed without humor. "The folly of men."

"More people will die if you don't do something," I told him. "More brothers and friends will be killed." I thought of Boomer and tears formed in my eyes. "Turn yourself in. Go to the cops. You can serve your time."

"They'll kill me inside the pin for sure," He shook his head. "You don't understand. Leaving is my only option."

I felt the tears roll over. Would leaving be the only option Butch had?

"But that won't stop the fighting," I argued.

"Nothing will ever stop that," He scoffed. "The people here are raised to hate and kill. You may want to think otherwise, but I know the truth. I have little power left. I'm hanging on by a string. I have to get out before it's too late."

He was crouching before me now and I watched him study me.

"The only thing standing between you and a dozen violent, lusting men outside is me," He whispered softly and I felt myself shiver. His hand came out and slid through my hair. I tensed. "You need me just as much as I need you."

I wanted to object but I heard the truth in his words. He needed me for the money and the way out of town. I needed him as the one assurance I might arrive back to Butch safely. I sucked in a sharp breath as his fingers touched my cheek. They were cold and he wiped at my tears.

"Such an emotional girl," He commented but he didn't seem as if he were talking to me. He was looking at the moisture on his fingertips. Suddenly his eyes flicked to mine. "And so pretty when you're frightened."

"I'm not afraid," I told him but my voice shook. I was terrified. I had been kidnapped, injured, and held hostage by this man. This man had been the constant source of my turmoil for a while now. He was dangerous and ready to snap, just as Butch had been. The tiredness in his eyes was gone. Now there was only urgency and desperation.

"Butch will not save you now," He laughed. "He'll bring the money to free you if the others will allow him to. But while I board a plane to escape it will be you two left to fight all those men outside. He will fail and you will have no one to keep you safe."

"You don't give him enough credit," I said bravely. "Butch is strong. He will beat them."

He smiled because we both knew the hollowness of my words. Butch couldn't fight all of those men. It would be too much, but he would try. And he would fail.

"So loyal," He went to his knees and the smell of his sweat engulfed me as his move made him rock closer to me. "Will you always defend him? He is only a boy. You have too much faith in him."

"At least I still have faith," I bit out. "What would your brother think of you now?"

My neck felt as if it were about to break as Grant smacked me hard against my cheek. My hair fell in front of my face and I sucked in a deep breath. I could hear Grant panting angrily before me and I winced.

"Stupid bitch," He seethed. "You know nothing about my brother. You know nothing about me."

I watched him pull out his gun through the veil of my hair. I pushed the blonde strands away and felt the cold barrel of the gun press to my forehead. Fear pulsed through me, mixing with my pain. What had I gotten myself into?

"S-sorry," I tried to appease him. He looked ready to shoot and I felt my heart beating against my ribs. "I'm sorry I didn't mean it, I promise." I licked my lips and tried to clear my suddenly dry throat. "Please."

His face slackened slightly but the gun didn't waver from against my skin. Even in my frightened state I couldn't miss the look he gave me. His eyes, full of hate, were also full of something else as they trekked down my body. I felt my stomach clench in fear and I knew why he had grown so close. I also knew what exactly was straining against the front of his pants.

"You like messing with danger, don't you?" He whispered hoarsely and I started to say something but bit my lip instead. I had to think of a way out of this. "You like men that could kill you in an instant, huh? Women like you are drawn to power."

Power didn't interest me in the slightest, but he didn't have to know that.

"I guess so," I mumbled, looking down as if I were shy to admit it. "I just…I just wish you could stop the fighting."

"I told you it won't stop," He snapped. "But as soon as your boy comes with the money I'll be gone and away from this city."

I sucked in a breath and forced myself not to shake. Slowly I reached up and touched Grant's face. My ribs protested but I ignored the pain the best I could. I raised my eyes to meet his and he was watching me, almost shocked, as I traced my fingers along his cheek.

"You're right. Butch is just a boy," I said softly. "A boy that plays with guns. But I just can't help it. I like power."

Grant swallowed. "He doesn't have power." He muttered. "He's just a lackey. I have power. I started a whole gang. Built them up. I've been around longer than that boy. I have the power."

I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise. Even as my fingers traced his lips I mouthed my doubt. "You don't have power. You admitted it yourself. You can't even get those men out there to leave you alone. They think you'll run away again."

Grant scowled. "Please," He muttered. "I'm playing my cards just right. I'm letting everyone else think they're in control but in the end it's me getting out of town with the money. In the end it's me with the good life and they'll be stuck back here for the cops to pick off."

"Where will you go?" I asked in breathy excitement. His eyes began to narrow as if he were beginning to doubt my sudden change in mood but when my fingers traced his lips again all thoughts were forgotten. "Those men out there won't let you leave."

"They'll be so busy dealing with Butch that they won't notice me slip away," He said against my fingers.

"But what if they do?" I tilted my head, letting my hair fall away from my neck and biting my lips. I'd watched tons of movies with Blossom where girls acted like this. I hoped it was working because I felt ridiculous. The dilated look in Grant's eyes told me it was. "It may only take a few men to take Butch down and then what will the others do with you?"

Concern flashed across his eyes but only briefly before he began to deny my thoughts. I had to drive it all home.

"They don't want you to get away. They're concerned more about the money than anything else," I shrugged. "What will happen?"

He said nothing, just flicked a glance towards the door that lead outside.

"Send them away," I told him softly. He looked back at me sharply and I thought I had pushed too far. "If you have that kind of power." I added.

That got him and I watched as he clenched his jaw. The gun slowly fell away from my face and he scowled in concentration before looking back at me.

"Stay here," He told me. "I'm going to go take care of something."

"O-okay," I nodded, not really having to force the nervous stutter in my voice.

His hand came up to run down the side of my neck and rest of the top of my breasts. Even with the layers of clothes that separated my skin from his touch I still felt revolted. Such an intimate touch, coupled with the look in his eyes, told me exactly what would be happening between us once he came back.

He stood up and left, walking out the door where I could now hear the sound of the other's voices as he dismissed them.

I sighed out before hoisting myself up against the wall. My whole body screamed in protest and I gritted my teeth to keep from doubling over in pain. I felt as if I was on fire but I managed to stand and stumble away from the wall. I had little time and I had to be ready.

I grabbed the first gun I could get to and held it close as I slowly walked towards the door. The gray light from outside was bright and I knew it must be the next morning. I hovered close to the door, my shoulder against the wall so I was still unseen, and listened to Grant debate with his men. They didn't trust him. They didn't want to leave. But after a few minutes (that felt like a lifetime) they finally agreed to leave so that they could "look out for Butch" as Grant had explained it.

Each man out there would love to find Butch first. Love to get the money for themselves.

That is…if Butch was even coming with the money. Or if he was coming at all…

I shook my head to dismiss that thought. Of course Butch was coming. Even if he couldn't bring the money he would still come to get me.

I prayed they didn't actually come across Butch but couldn't dwell on that for long. Grant was coming back towards the door now that his men had left. Steeling my nerves I waited, hunched against the wall, for him to come through the door. He stepped in, not seeing me in the place he left me, and froze. Confusion crossed his face.

I lifted the gun in my hand and put it to the side of his head before he could notice me standing there. He stiffened and tried to look down at me from the corner of his eye. I frowned up at him, the gun heavy and pressing hard to my hand and his head.

"Wha-?" He began but I nudged him harder with the gun.

"Drop your gun," I ordered.

"You don't have the guts to shoot me," He sneered.

"Drop your gun or I swear to god your brains will be everywhere," I gritted out between clenched teeth. My fear gave way to anger and I glared. "You threatened everything I've worked for. Don't test me."

"Stupid bitch," He scowled. "This is pointless. I'm stronger than you."

"That doesn't matter right now, does it?" I pointed out. "I'm the one with the gun to your head."

His gun dropped to the ground and I sighed. Without letting my gun waver I kicked his gun away so that it slid out of reach from us both.

"Now get on the ground." I instructed. My anxiousness was finally catching up to me and my nerves were making me shake.

"What if Butch hasn't come for you yet?" He asked. "What if you walk out of here and no one is looking for you? My men will find you first. They'll slaughter you, but first they'll take turns having their way with you."

I tried not to listen to him, knowing he was just trying to get in my head.

"Butch is on his way, I know it." I told him. "I'm going to meet him, but not before you lie down on the ground."

He went to his knees first and then slowly laid down, cursing me the whole way. I bit my lip, watching him for any signs of betrayal, before I slowly backed towards the door. I kept my gun focused on him as my muscles tensed for flight.

"Stay there," I commanded. "And…don't move." I muttered lamely before taking off in a mad sprint away from the building. I had no idea where I was but I didn't let that stop me. I had to get distance between me and that man. He would get up the moment he heard me run and he'd chase after me. But he was older and I was faster. I didn't look back.

I ran between building and around crates that lined the dock of the bay. The cold air made my lungs feel like fire and I had to fight the urge to collapse as my ribs ached. The more I ran, however, the less everything hurt. I had to focus on other things. That made the pain feel lessened.

"Butch, where are you?" I panted as I pushed past another crate.

Was it just my imagination or were there footsteps running after me? I tried to ignore that fear but just as I thought it a sudden gunshot split through the air. I screamed as I ducked behind a barrel full of fish. A bullet hole was etched in the side of it now and water was leaking out onto the icy ground. I sucked in a breath, terrified.

"Come out girl!" Grant yelled, his own voice out of breath.

I crouched low and moved to hide behind something else just as another gunshot tore through the barrel completely. I slid along the corner of a building to hide, hoping to find some way out, but my stomach sunk when I realized I'd chosen a dead end. A fence stretched up in front of me with crates and boxes stacked before it.

"Come out!" He shouted again, followed by another gunshot but this time I couldn't see where it hit as I ran down the small alley towards the boxes.

'_I'm going to die_!'My mind screamed at me. It had been telling me since the moment the man began kicking me in the ribs but now the yell was all I could hear. '_I'm going to die right now!'_

"You're my one ticket to getting money," Grant warned me. He was behind me now, at the mouth of the alley, but I didn't turn back. "I'm not letting you get away."

I didn't reply. I laid my hands flat on the boxes and lifted myself up. With labored movements I began to climb. I wasn't sure why Grant hadn't shot me yet. I was in clear range. I looked down to see him at the foot of the boxes. To my dismay he began to climb as well. I looked up. Only four more boxes and I'd be at the top. I gritted my teeth and continued up.

"You tricked me," Grant was gaining fast. He was older but he wasn't suffering from injuries like me. "You tricked me to get away."

I breathed out and my breath formed in the air. "What did you expect?" I asked him. "Besides, I'd say we're even now. You tricked me first."

I was too short to get up on top of the last box. I reached out and my hand gripped the ledge of it but as my foot moved to find a hold it slid against a smooth side. I struggled to quickly find another way. I looked around. There was a small groove in the wooden fence. I went to wedge my foot in there but before I could a hand clamped around my ankle.

Grant, still slightly behind me, was holding tight.

I struggled. "Let go!"

He yanked down and I almost fell all the way back to the ground but somehow I managed to keep my grip on the top box. He squeezed at my ankle and I felt the bones grind together. With as much force as I could muster I slammed my leg towards him. His grip wavered as my foot collided with his head. I did this again and this time his hand fell away as he moved to block his face. His nose was now bleeding.

I wasted no time before putting my foot in the groove and pulling myself up onto the top box and without hesitation I rolled myself over the top of the fence.

Which, in hindsight, was a bad idea.

There was nothing on the other side to stop my fall and when I hit the concrete below I landed on my already bruised side. I cried out, in too much pain to even move, as my vision swam and I clenched my fingers in the snow. It all hurt. Hurt way too much to be normal. The gun I had managed to hold onto (but had been too afraid to use) skid uselessly away from me.

I heard Grant's feet crunch in the snow as he landed beside me. He grunted but recovered quickly. I moaned and tried to hide my face from the victorious look he was giving me.

"Help!" My voice was quiet and winded at first but I swallowed and tried again. "Someone help me!"

The windows of the building around me were boarded up, dusted, and empty. No one was around to hear me. The knowledge tightened at my heart. I really was going to die.

"Bubbles!" The call was familiar and I jerked to try and look up.

"Butch?" Grant muttered a profanity. "He must've heard the gunshots."

I felt like smiling. He'd heard the gunshots. He found me. It was going to be okay.

And yet…

"Bubbles?!" Butch was on the other side of the fence in the alley. He wouldn't get to me quick enough.

Grant walked towards the fence, finding a slightly skewed slat, and peering through it. He slid the gun through the hole and aimed. I struggled to my knees, suddenly finding the energy to move again.

"Butch, watch out!" I yelled just before Grant fired. I heard Butch grunt and I pushed myself away from the ground to fall against Grant's side. I pounded at him with my fists. "You shot him, you ass!"

Grant roughly shoved me aside and I landed on my butt in the wet snow.

"Do you have the money?" Grant yelled to Butch, giving me slight hope that at least Butch was alive.

But instead of answering, the fence that Grant was close to suddenly burst apart, wood splintering as Butch broke through. Grant and Butch fell to the ground in a pile of limbs, wood chunks, and blood. My eyes widened but I couldn't make out where Butch had been shot.

"Run," Butch grunted as they both began to from a tangle of punches.

"I can't leave you," I argued.

Butch sent me a quick, urgent look. His moment of distraction cost him and his gun was hit from his hand and sent across the alley. Before Grant could shoot, however, Butch tackled him again and they began to wrestle. I blinked and scrambled to my feet, intent on reaching one of the discarded guns.

"No! Forget it!" Butch barked. "Just run!"

I obeyed this time and pulled myself through the hole Butch had made in the fence and took off in a limp. I heard some curses from the fighting men and as I turned the corner I froze at the sound of another gunshot. I closed my eyes, praying for the best, and slowly limped towards the water where some men must be working. I was close to the water now and my feet were near the edge that looked down to the grey depths.

Further down the docks I could see men shuffling to load a boat. I opened my mouth to call for them but a hand clamped down around my mouth and I was pulled back to a chest.

"Quiet," Grant whispered to me. "I didn't get my money yet. I can't have you messing things up."

Where was Butch? Had that gunshot…?

No, something was wrong. Butch couldn't be dead. As I stood I could feel hot blood seeping from Grant's chest where I was held. It seeped into my coat and hit my shoulder blade. He'd been hurt and now was bleeding badly.

I threw my weight back against that spot. Grant gasped and fell to the ground in shock and pain. I pulled from his lingering hold and stepped back. I glared down at him from where I stood watching him kneel.

"Where's Butch?" I asked, my eyes looking around.

Grant spit into the snow and there was blood.

"He's resting now," He laughed tiredly. "It's just you and me."

My heart skipped and I frowned, turning around to try and spot Butch. Had he been hurt too bad to move?

"Come on now," Grant struggled to stand. "We have to go get me my money."

"No," I shook my head. "I won't help you anymore."

"You have no choice." He shook his head. "I'll make you help me."

I shook my head again. Grant was standing before me now, tall and looming, and I blinked up at him. He was stronger than me. He would never quit. He had hurt Jazz, Butch, and countless others. His men were the reason Boomer was dead. He was the reason I had to fear the city. He was why I had to leave Butch earlier.

"No!" I shouted at him, slapping away his hand as he reached for me. "No, no, no!"

With surprising force I pushed against him. My two palms flat on his blood-stained clothes. I pushed him away from me. I just wanted him to go away. He stepped back but there was nothing there to stop him. No more ground. His eyes widened and his breath caught as he began to fall back into the water. The icy water.

It was like I was watching it all in slow motion. I saw the waving of his arms as he tried to regain balance. I saw the panic on his face. I knew that if I let him fall I wouldn't have to worry again. If I let him fall he would stop hurting everyone. If I let him fall…

If I let him fall he would die.

My hands fisted in the front of his clothes. He was heavy and my arms stretched out as I caught him. I bit my lip as my feet slid in the snow, bringing me closer to the edge as well.

"Pull harder," Grant's voice was afraid as he ordered me to try. Try to save him.

"I can't," I gasped, closing my eyes as I dug my feet in and tried to use my weight to pull him back onto the docks. He was at an almost parallel angle to the ground, his feet barely hanging on to the edge. Gravity was against us.

"P-please," He begged. The water would kill him. It was freezing.

"Grab onto my arms and pull," I instructed. He grabbed at my arms, just below the elbow, and as he pulled I slipped some more and we almost both went falling into the bay. I twisted myself and with one deep breath and a silent prayer I threw myself back. The movement was enough and we both fell back to the solid ground, Grant landing with a grunt on top of me.

He rolled off and we lay for a moment, panting.

I had saved him. I had done it.

So why was he watching me, eerily calm and calculating. I blinked when in a flash a knife was pulled from his pocket. The snow was wet and cold against my cheek but I didn't move. I watched him stand above me, looking down at my prone form.

"You shouldn't have done that," He said coldly. "You had your chance to be rid of me. You just lost it."

I closed my eyes. "I saved you." I told him softly.

"I know," He sighed. "I don't know why you did."

Because everyone can be saved. Everyone.

Something cold pressed on my other cheek, and by the prick that my skin felt, I knew it was the knife. I didn't open my eyes. I didn't want to see this. Because I knew something Grant didn't know—love was stronger than hate. And Butch, no matter what Grant had done to him moments before, couldn't be kept down for long.

As the blade ran down my cheek I sucked in a breath before I felt nothing at all. Instead I heard the resounding crack as Grant was tackled against the concrete. I heard the sound of their punches. I heard them both struggle. I heard them both curse. I heard them fight. Butch was back and I closed my eyes so that I couldn't see him get hurt. I didn't open my eyes again until I felt another body fall next to mine.

I looked to see Butch struggling to get back up but with a swift kick to the stomach he was sent back down. Grant was pacing above him with a battered face. Butch sent me a quick, searching look and the green of his eyes warmed me. He had a swollen lip and a bleeding nose. It had been broken again I smiled deliriously at that. He reached out and his hand brushed my hair.

"Why did you save him?" He whispered to me but his voice was not harsh. I realized he sounded far away because I was losing consciousness. My ribs, surely broken, were pressing against my skin and I knew I wasn't going to be able to sit back up.

"I had to," I told him but he wasn't looking at me now. Instead he had sat up, scooting to block me as Grant watched us both.

"How sweet," Grant droned. "You two will die here together, on the same docks that your brother died."

Butch's back tensed before me and I couldn't see his face but I knew it must have hardened.

"You should have brought the money," Grant sighed, studying the knife in his hand with an air of boredom. My blood lined the metal. He kneeled to grab Butch's shirt but before he could Butch was up and standing before him. With a swift kick Butch sent Grant flying back, blood running down his face.

"Get up!" Butch commanded. "I said get up!"

Grant tried but Butch kicked him again.

"You hurt my girl," He muttered darkly to the older man. "You tricked her, took her away, and scared her." He spat on his body. "Your man killed my brother. We were only at that fight for you and my brother died."

"That's life," Grant shot back. "People get hurt and die."

Butch grabbed the front of Grant's shirt and pulled up so that his feet dangled slightly above the ground. "My brother didn't deserve to die." Butch breathed angrily into his face. He pulled back and then swung again, catching Grant on the chin.

Grant stumbled away and then caught himself. In a desperate attempt to save himself, Grant readied himself to attack. Butch watched warily as Grant tensed and threw his body at him. Butch easily stepped out of the way, neither of them noticing the position they were in. With nothing there for Grant to run into, he stumbled into nothing.

Nothing but the air and the bay.

In the blink of an eye Grant was gone. He had walked right off the side of the docks and the soft splash singled the end. I saw Butch wince and then look over the side and watch the water. Nothing emerged. I lay, breathing shallowly, and waited to hear Grant gasping as he emerged but he never did.

"Is he dead?" I asked Butch, my voice cracking. Butch walked towards me, his eyes solemn. I bit my lip. "Is he dead?!"

"Shh," Butch quieted me with a quick touch to my cheek. His fingers ran along the cut Grant had given me. "He's dead."

I felt my heart pounding. He wasn't supposed to die. We were supposed to work things out. We had to find a way to make things better.

"He got tangled in the nets at the bottom," Butch told me as he knelt to help me sit up. He paused when I cried out in pain. "What's wrong, baby?"

"My ribs…" I winced but couldn't focus on that for long. Butch was close to me, trying to find my injury, his green eyes determined and his jaw set. "He can't be dead."

"He is," Butch told me sharply but I knew he didn't mean to be harsh. He gathered me into his arms. "Come on we have to get out of here."

I looked out at the bay and then back at Butch. He stood up, holding me tightly to him and his grip hurt slightly. His face was bruising already and his blood was slicked down his chin and neck as it leaked from his nose and a gash on his forehead. My stomach ached to see him bleed and I felt worry build in me.

"You're hurt," I whispered.

"I'll be fine," He told me quickly.

I smiled tiredly even as tears leaked from my eyes. "I'm so sorry you had to come save me again."

He gave me a look as my world began to fade to black. "Sorry it took so long."

---

_I knelt before some stranger's face,  
I'd never have the courage or belief to trust this place,  
But I dropped my head, 'cos it felt like lead,  
And I'm sure I felt your fingers through my hair..._

----

Butch's face was all over the news. All of their faces were. They were blurry pictures taken by undercover cops, but I knew most of the faces. Ace, Brick, Butch, Big Billy, and even Boomer were flashing across the television set. Various pictures, mugshots, and crime scenes were being shown. The reporter was listing the names off.

"Well, we're fucked," Snake said coldly. He ran a hand through his brown hair, his face drawn tight.

We were in their safe house now. The momentary relief at the decease of Grant was gone now with the viewing of the news. The room was dim and full of smoke and I was laid out on one of the sofas. Butch was sitting on arm of the sofa, his face watching the screen as the reporter talked of all his past crimes. The police had finally found enough evidence to fully release the case. Now they were out hunting for the gang. The whole city would know.

"We have to get out of here," Brick was telling Ace. Ace said nothing, just watched the screen. "If we don't leave now we'll never get out. It may already be too late."

"We will not run," Ace snapped. "We spent all this time getting power, we won't throw it away!"

"We'll all be thrown in jail," Lil' Arturo protested. Behind him Grubber, Big Billy, and Snake nodded.

Ace sneered. "Run if you want, cowards. I'm staying here."

"They'll catch you," Brick told him.

"No, they won't," Ace argued but his words seemed silly instead of brave.

I watched the scene with mounting frustration and jumped slightly when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked to see Butch giving me a 'be quiet' look and I frowned at him. He knew me too well.

"Well we're leaving," Snake said bravely, but his eyes were hesitant.

"Fine, leave," Ace waved them away. "Get out of here."

"Come with us," Brick tried to reason but Ace said nothing.

"What about Jazz?" I asked before Butch could stop me. He sent me a glare but then looked back over to Ace. Ace was staring at me through the thick haze of smoke and tint of his glasses.

"What about her?" He asked coldly.

I sat up, the ice on my ribs falling away, and Butch put his hand on my back to help me. I needed to go to the hospital but I knew I couldn't. Butch was suffering from a bullet wound in his left shoulder but he was ignoring that now that we'd gotten the metal scrap out and the hole cleaned out.

I met Ace's gaze coolly. "If you go to jail she'll have no one left. She needs you. She's in the hospital and-"

"She doesn't need me anymore," Ace sighed. "The state will take her in. They probably already did."

"And you're okay with that?!" I felt my temper rise. "She's your sister. You have to go get her. You have to get her some help and get her away."

Ace stood up, knocking his chair back, and began pacing. All eyes on the room were on him and I felt Butch squeeze my shoulder slightly in warning. He'd protect me from Ace, I knew that, but that didn't mean he wanted to hurt his friend. I didn't want him to fight anymore either, but Ace was being a jerk.

"Fine, we leave," Ace said after a few minutes.

"Together?" Snake asked.

"No," Ace shook his head. "We have more of a chance if we split up. Every man for himself."

"But that's not how a gang works," Big Billy said, confused.

"We're no longer a gang," Ace bit out. "It's all over. The police know everything."

We were all silent and my hands fiddled in my lap.

"So it's all over," Snake sighed. A feeling of remorse was shared amongst the men. "Fine then."

I watched as some of them filed out into the city. I blinked back at Ace.

"And Jazz?" I urged.

"What about her?" He repeated.

"You can't just leave her here," It was Butch this time that protested. His voice held reason. "Take her with you, Ace."

"She's better off without me," He sighed and I looked down at my lap. It went silent for a while.

"So…goodbye," Brick seemed unsure with the parting. Ace said nothing to him and without a word we all left. I looked back and stared at the fallen leader one last time. I felt as if I should cry but willed myself not to. He hung his head and I turned away, not wanting to see his shame.

---

The motel smelled weird. The carpet was too old and the curtains held the smell of smoke. I ignored this as I lay down on my back, staring up at the water-stained ceiling. My blonde hair fell out around me and I stretched out my arms so that they both reached either side of the mattress.

"Hungry?" Butch asked as he dropped two sodas and some snacks from the vending machine down on the bed.

"No, thank you," I replied without looking at him. I didn't have to see him to feel the scowl he sent my way.

"What's your problem?" He asked as he crawled to my side.

"I just…" I looked over at him now. His nose was blue, purple, and gold around the bridge where it was broken and the white tape stood out against it. His lip was scabbed over and his eyebrow had two stitches in it done by myself. "I'm scared."

"Why?" He asked and I moved my arm so that he could lie on his back beside me. He turned his head and watched me closely.

"I'm scared of getting caught and losing you," I admitted. "I'm scared that Grant died and we could have saved him."

"Grant died because he wanted to. You gave him a chance to get out of it, Bubbles," He told me softly. "Quit blaming yourself."

I nodded and then smiled up at him. "Your nose looks funny."

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks." He muttered sarcastically before sobering. He reached over and touched my stomach so softly that I didn't even feel it. I knew he was thinking of the injury just underneath my shirt. His face darkened.

"It feels better," I assured him, reading his mind.

"I shouldn't have left you outside," He sighed. "I just thought…"

"We've both made mistakes," I told him with a slight smile and then giggled. "That's an understatement I guess."

He kissed my lips and, sensing my nervousness, stroked my hair. "Calm down, Betty, we're okay now. And as soon as we get the chance I'm going to take you to a hospital and we'll get you fixed. I promise."

I smiled at him and then it fell from my face.

"Do you forgive me?" I asked him, feeling suddenly anxious. I had left him. I had cost him so much.

"Yeah," He said without much thought or hesitation and he kissed me again, deeper this time, and he tasted like everything I've ever loved.

"Do you miss him?" I asked as we pulled away from the kiss. It was a stupid question. Of course he missed his brother. Why did I ask?

But Butch didn't get annoyed. He got a small tick in his cheek as he lightly touched my hair. "Yeah." He repeated.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Butch straightened and moved quietly to look out the peephole of the motel door. He undid the three latches and pulled the door open to reveal Brick. They nodded at each other before Brick entered and shut the door behind him, locking it again.

"Bubbles," Brick acknowledged at me and I smiled.

"What's the plan?" Butch asked his brother. His only brother now, I realized, feeling a sting of sadness and pity for the two men. A part of them was gone.

"I got us a private jet out of here. The cops won't be able check the passengers of a private plane. We just have to get to the airport without being caught, okay?" He told us. I was shocked as he turned to make sure I understood. I was a part of this now, though, so it made sense. I had been for a long while.

"How'd you get a private jet?" Butch raised a dark eyebrow. The gesture was so familiar, despite the new cuts and bruises, so I smiled. He caught my smile and winked at me.

Brick grabbed a bag off his shoulder and tossed it to Butch. Butch opened it and tilted it so that I could see the wads of cash inside. My eyes widened. Uptown people were rich but they used credit cards, not cash. I hadn't seen so much money in my life.

"That's some money from Grant's place." Brick told us. "I grabbed it as we left earlier. Ace will keep the rest. It'll be up to him to decide if he gives some to the rest of the gang. This will be enough to ensure our trip out of here and enough to live comfortably for the rest of our lives."

The rest of my life…with Butch. The rest of my life away from my family.

I wasn't sure how to feel.

"Be at the Townsville airport tomorrow morning at ten. Keep a low profile and get to the private runway." He took the bag back from Butch. "I'll be there waiting."

"See you then," Butch agreed and we watched him leave.

Butch and I were quiet for a few minutes and soon he went to shower and I continued to stare up at the ceiling. Earlier he had watched the news, insisting that it was good for us to know what we were dealing with, but when he noticed my distress he'd turned it off. Now it was quiet except for the running water in the next room and I closed my eyes.

"I love you," I said as Butch walked from the bathroom, the smell of cheap motel soap filling the air. I heard him pause, startled, before walking towards the bed. "I love you." I repeated as if he hadn't already heard me.

"It's going to be fine," He said with such assurance that I let myself believe him. The bed dipped as he reached me. His lips began kissing my cheek, my injured cheek, and then my neck. I gasped out as my dread left me and another feeling clenched at my stomach. "I'm right here."

I sunk my fingers into his hair, pulling him to me so that our bodies aligned and he held himself up on his elbows to keep from touching any of my bruises. He bit at my jaw and I smiled against him. This twisting heat he made me feel was so new and addicting that I shook as I ran my fingers down his back.

"You're hurt," He panted and his eyes were so dark they looked black. "We can't do this now."

"Please," I pleaded. "I'm scared and…" I was scared and I needed him to touch me. Needed him to need me. Needed him to show me how he loved me. But I couldn't voice that so instead I just pushed up to kiss his cheek shyly. I blushed at the look he gave me.

"I'll be gentle," He almost moaned his consent and I giggled.

"Okay," I smiled against his lips and felt nothing but pleasure and love.

---

The airport was busy that morning. People pushed about with their luggage and security walked by constantly, making me slightly nervous. Butch's arm was slung protectively around my shoulder and I leaned into him. We were angled to face a large window that overlooked the runway.

"That's our way out," Butch told me, pointing towards a smaller plane at the far side of the runway. "When it moves up to that runway over there we'll go outside and board it."

"Okay," I said but without much conviction.

"What's wrong?" He tilted his head to ask me, his voice warm and deep in my ear and shivers ran down my spine. We couldn't talk too loud or else other people would hear but still the feel of him so close excited me.

I felt his phone vibrate before I could answer and we pulled away briefly.

"What?" He asked the person on the other line. He listened for a moment before turning off the call. His face, that had been cautious and aware only seconds ago, was now distracted.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"Brick," He replied shortly. "The police caught Lil' Arturo and Snake trying to board a train."

I looked down at the ground, discouraged and upset. Brick looked out the window stoically and I slid my arm through his and put my cheek against his shoulder. I felt my heart beating oddly. This wasn't right. It wasn't. I couldn't just run away. I had my family still. My father and my sisters. They would always wonder what happened to me and even if I found a way to tell them, they would never be able to fully let me go.

And I would never stop missing them.

I would spend the rest of my life away from them. I would be hurting them.

Slowly I pulled my arm from Butch's. He looked away from the window and watched me calmly. Something on my face must have alerted him because his eyes grew grim and his mouth turned down at the edges. I stared up at him, trying to find the words.

"Don't," He said harshly. "Don't try to back out of this. We're staying together."

"I-I can't Butch," I said softly and as the words left my mouth I knew them to be true. I couldn't run away. I couldn't board that plane. "I just can't."

"No," He gritted out and his hand reached out to grab mine. "I just got you back, you can't leave again."

Tears sprung to my eyes. I didn't want to leave him. "I'm not leaving you. You can stay here with me."

"I'll go to jail for the rest of my life," He told me but I shook my head.

"No, I could figure something out. I know a lot of lawyers. Good lawyers. I even know the judges. I could talk to them and figure something out." I pleaded.

"It won't work," He grabbed my face now, gently, but with an urgency I rarely saw him display. "Come with me."

"I don't want to always be running away. I can't pretend to be someone else," I felt my voice crack and despite the crowded airport no one noticed our display. "I can't leave my family."

"That was the whole reason you moved to the city in the first place," He argued right back. "You were running away."

"I've grown up since then," I smiled. I'd grown up so much and all thanks to him. He had made me someone stronger. I was so full of indecision and mistakes but somehow I was stronger. I was much stronger. "I'm tired of running. It's time I start learning from my mistakes."

"Will you go back to _him_?" He asked viciously.

"No," I said honestly and with conviction. "I will go back to no one but you."

He said nothing and I saw a war pass behind the jade eyes I'd grown to know. His lips pressed tightly together and he hesitated. The fight was still in him but he would never force anything on me. And deep down he could never force me to leave my family. Not when his own family was something he'd die to bring back. His hands slid off my face and fell to his sides and I felt a lump form in my throat.

"I guess that's why you're the hero and I'm the bad guy," He said with a forced smirk. "Always trying to do the right thing, huh?"

"I'm no hero," I said, sounding all too much like Butch had before.

He looked away from me and out to the runway where the small private jet was pulling up to get ready to take off. Whoever Brick had paid off to get them out of town was preparing to leave. Our time was running out.

He looked at me and from the look in his eyes I could tell he knew I wasn't coming with him. But the stubbornness in his body told me he wasn't taking this change easily.

"Come with me," He demanded again. "I'll stay with you forever. I'll keep you safe." I opened my mouth to protest but he continued. "We have money from Grant, you'll live fine. Anything you want I'll get it for you. Come with me."

"I can't," Tears streamed down my cheeks and I fell against his chest. "Please, understand that I can't." I sniffed. "But you can stay here with me…"

He chuckled and ran his fingers through my hair. "Even a hero can't save everyone, Bubbles. You know if I stay we will never be together."

"But I love you," I whispered. My heart was aching. I held tight to him, wanting to keep him there forever.

"Then come with me," He repeated but before I could protest he pushed me slightly away and held me by my shoulders to look me in my eyes. "Never mind." He laughed without humor. "I'm repeating myself. It isn't helping, is it?"

I wanted to tell him that it was helping. If he continued to ask me I would eventually cave in. I could not bear to deny him for long.

"Sorry," I told him instead.

"Don't be," He smiled. A real smile that only I ever got to see. It only made the tears come faster. "We'll see each other again."

I giggled in nodded despite feeling close to hysterics. It wasn't supposed to go this way. "Yes." I agreed. "I'll see you again. Somehow."

He touched my cheek and then kissed my lips so chastely that I felt little pressure. And despite our words I couldn't help but feel as if it were our last kiss. The thought made me feel sick.

He looked back out to the runway and saw that the plane was fully lined up to leave. He needed to get to it if he planned on getting away. I stared at the line of his strong jaw, the bend of his broken nose, and the solid lift of his shoulders. I memorized his form and when he turned back to me I just smiled at him and took a deep, shaky breath.

"Goodbye, Betty," His deep voice shook me.

We said nothing else as he pulled me into a quick embrace. His warmth was comforting and I buried my nose against his neck and breathed his soapy musk before he pulled back. With only a brief, meaningful look he left me standing there. I watched him disappear through the crowd and I stood unable to move.

"Goodbye," I whispered as I pressed a palm to the cold glass. I watched his figure down on the runways as it slinked to the plane. Unless you were looking for him you would have missed him. And then he was gone. The plane sped up and into the sky and I watched it disappear. "Goodbye." I repeated with a small smile.

'_Until we meet again_…' I thought wistfully as I turned to leave. '_Thank you_.'

_---_

_And if I listen to the sound of white_

_Sometimes I hear your smile and breathe your light.  
Yeah if I listen to, the sound of white._

---

**By far the hardest chapter to write so far. Sorry for the long, long wait. Happy Thanksgiving! Be kind when you review. Thank you sooo much for being patient I know I was being impossible to wait for. Again I apologize. You guys are amazing. **

**R.I.P. CW—I will love you forever and I will dance with you soon.**


	21. I'll Fy Away

_Some glad morning when this life is over,  
I'll fly away;  
To a home on God's celestial shore,  
I'll fly away (I'll fly away)._

---

"_What's that?" Boomer asked, his small hand grabbing the piece of paper quickly. I watched as mom pulled him onto her lap and looked at the photo in his hand. _

_Brick and I climbed up into the chair as well. It was an old chair but it was big and soft and the material smelled like our mom. She let us slide against her so that we could see the photo as well. I wrinkled up my nose, unknowingly wearing the same expression my two brothers were wearing._

"_What is it?" Brick asked her._

_She laughed softly and Brick smiled at me, proud he'd made her laugh and I just stuck out my tongue at him. _

"_It's a beach," She explained, gently taking the picture from Boomer's hand. She pointed as she said: "There's the sand, and the ocean, and the waves. Those are palm trees and right there you can see a seagull."_

"_It's a bird," I told her, looking at the ugly animal in the picture but my mom was smiling tenderly so I kept my thoughts inside. _

"_At the beach there are dozens of those birds. You'll see them sometimes at the docks here, but it gets too cold for them to stay in our city." She told us. "The beach is warm. And the air there smells of salt and the sound of waves crashing is beautiful."_

"_Can we go the beach, ma?" Boomer turned in her lap to stare up at her with his big blue eyes. He got away with the most. _

"_One day," She whispered. "One day, son. It's been years since I went to the beach. I was just a little girl, slightly older than you. That picture you found is very old."_

"_I want to go to the beach now," Boomer begged, excited. _

_She laughed and pulled all three of us to her. I pretended to struggle and get away which made her laugh again. "One day," she repeated as she kissed my cheek sloppily._

---

"This is it," Brick muttered as he searched through his bag. Neither of us had much time to pack before leaving Townsville but Brick had managed to grab a few things. I watched as he pulled a piece of paper from his bag and handed it over to me.

I looked down. It was the picture of a beach my mom had had when we were younger. It was creased and faded now but I could still make out the image. I held it up to the landscape before me for comparison. We weren't at the same beach, obviously, but it was similar to the one in the photo.

"I'm going to go walk around," Brick told me. He started slipping on his shoes and then stopped and took them back off. "I guess people around here don't really need to wear shoes. I need to blend in."

I rolled my eyes. Brick was redheaded and here we were on an island full of tan people with dark hair. He had no chances of blending in. I didn't tell him this, however, and just shrugged. Our new place was on the beach, far enough away from people so that we could get some privacy, but close enough so we could still go buy food.

"Be right back," Brick told me as he took off down the beach, his feet sinking in the white sand.

We'd only arrived on this island a day ago. It was called Koh Mak and it had taken us days to get there. The man who flew us here had been trying to sell the property for years and since we paid in cash he didn't need to use or know our names. We needed a low profile and the man had been an old friend of Ace's. He wouldn't tell anyone where we went and he assured us the people here wouldn't ask too many questions. Not that we planned on making many friends. This island was our escape. We'd live here until we found something else.

I looked around. The sound of the waves rolling in was unfamiliar to me and the sea looked alive in the hot sun. I looked back to the palm trees. Exotic birds called out. I frowned and moved further into the house. It was a small house, right on the beach, made of glass and wood. The floors were a slicked wood and the outside frame was all glass, giving us little privacy but no one lived nearby to see us.

I went into my room that I shared with Brick. Our two mats were rolled up in the corner where we would be sleeping. No beds. I reached the glass door and stuck the picture in the frame so that it stayed there. It was one of the few things we had, but we had never needed much to begin with.

I sighed and looked out at the expanse of the ocean.

---

"There's a town about a mile away," Brick came back to the house, his skin already reddened from the sun. "The people there seemed nice. They thought I was a tourist."

I rolled another cigarette and looked out into the night. I was sitting leaned back against the open doorframe and the sound of the ocean filled the room. Brick began cutting up some fruit he'd bought with his pocket knife and since we had no table he just handed me my slice. I wasn't sure what it was and I wasn't too hungry so I put it on the floor.

"No one will find us here," Brick said as he stood above me, watching the ocean as well. "We're not important enough for a full out search. In a few years we'll be history. Just an urban legend."

I said nothing and stared down at the cigarette and spun it between my fingertips. Brick turned and looked down at me.

"Butch?" He frowned.

I needed new clothes. My jeans were itchy and hot in this weather. I had taken off my shirt earlier when I had tried to fix the electricity box. I wasn't as handy with that stuff as I thought and ended up singeing three of my fingers and we still had no power. A few lanterns hung around us and the flames inside flickered only slightly as the breeze swung them.

"_Butch_?" Brick pressed and I looked up at him this time. His red eyes seemed concerned but he wouldn't ask me what was wrong. I sighed and stood up.

"I'm going to bed," I told him and went barefoot back into the house.

---

When I told bubbles she was a hero—I meant that she had saved me. After Boomer died the only thing keeping me from splitting into a thousand pieces was the fact that she existed. And if she was still alive, nothing could be completely wrong.

So I couldn't be completely mad at her for not coming. She had done enough for me, how could I expect her to give up everything because of my mistakes?

But still paradise seemed lacking without her. I was used to her. Her constant talking and laugh. I liked her smile way too much. It had wormed its way so far into my mind that I could recall her face at any moment of the day. It almost drove me insane, the way she distracted me without even being there.

Late at night when the windows were all open and the air around me was thick with heat and salt I would think of her. I would imagine using the money we had left to go get her. She'd do well here. The sun would darken her skin and lighten her hair. In time she would forget about ever missing the city. In time she would learn to love this life here in paradise.

In time I would be able to show her how much I owed her, since I was always better with actions than words.

In time.

Because if nothing else we would have time.

Here on this island days slipped by like water. Brick and I had already adapted as well as we could. I went into town less than Brick and therefore I spent more time in the ocean and the forest around us. I was just a city boy but soon I figured out which plants had good fruit. After days of practicing, and with some old nets Brick had gotten from town, I could catch a good amount of fish. The sway of the water and crash of the waves felt like nothing to me now that I'd grown used to it. I could stand out there for long periods at a time catching meals, the hot sun on my shoulders and my dark hair slicked away from my face. The nets had worn new calluses on my already rough hands as I held the net and stared down at the fish swimming around me.

'_These are real fish_,' I would tell Bubbles as I came out of the water. '_Not that frozen stuff you fixed me back in the city_.'

I could see her in my mind. She'd make a face at the fish and smile at me '_Butch, I can't cook those!_' She'd say and laugh, exasperated as if her adoration for me was the only thing that kept her around.

'_I love you_,' She had told me that before I had left and now her words repeated themselves like a song in my mind. '_I love you_.'

I liked the sound of it, but before I had no idea what to do with it, and so I had said nothing. Now, if she was here, I'd push her back in the sand and show her that I loved her too. I always had. I just couldn't tell her before because I barely knew it myself. But now I knew it. Now when I was half a world away and there was no way of telling her.

'_I love you_.' She'd smile and kiss me, the sea breeze in her hair and the sun freckling her cheeks.

'_I love you_.'

---

Life on the beach was relaxing. I had never had so much time to lie around and it was weird. Everything was white sand, blue waters, and fresh green trees. I felt as if I were lifetimes away from the city despite it being only months since I'd left.

"I'll be back later tonight," Brick said, throwing on a thin white shirt. I was laid out on the beach, shirt off and hands tucked behind my head, staring up at the sky.

About a month ago Brick had started disappearing for hours at a time. I had worried at first; instinctively thinking the police had found him. But after going into town to find him I discovered his newest fascination. Brick was leaned up against the corner of a flower stand in the market, talking to one the prettiest girls I'd ever seen.

Her name was Mali. She had long dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. Her smile was bright white against her dark skin. Although my brother could hardly understand a word of the language the people on the island spoke, he watched her mouth move as if he knew exactly what she was saying.

I knew then as I watched them from across the street, that my brother was sunk. I watched him leave at odd hours of the day, dressed nicely and all the sand brushed off of him, and head towards town. He said she rejected him a lot at first. Even with the language barrier a snub was a snub. But eventually she took to talking to him and giggling when he tried to talk back.

She never would go anywhere with him and so he always went to her, often baring gifts like seashells or anything that looked nice that he could buy from town. She just smiled at him and he was getting frustrated, I could tell, with the lack of interest she gave him. But he was determined.

I'd met her a few times and she talked and looked at both my brother and I as if we were just any other people. There was no fear in her eyes, only laughter. I wondered if this was what life would have been like for us if we had never gotten involved in gangs. No one would have needed to look at us with fear or trepidation. No need for guns or fights. No need for death.

"Good luck," I told my brother as he disappeared down the trail towards town.

---

I felt the cool water slip down my bare back as I pulled myself out of the ocean and onto a rock out a few meters from shore. The surface scraped at the back of my thighs as I sat down. I kept my feet in the water and leaned back against my elbows. The water was still clear even though it was deeper here and I could see fish swimming beneath the surface, the sun reflecting off their sleek forms.

I came out here a lot to think. I felt as if there was nothing else to do but sit around and think.

I thought about the city, my life on the streets as an orphan, and the power I had lost. Most of the time I think about Bubbles and Boomer. I replayed all the time I spent with them. I came up with ways where I could have kept them. I could have stopped Boomer's death if I hadn't been so obsessed with catching Grant Audley. I could have kept Bubbles if I hadn't been too proud to quit the gang. Even if I went to prison I would have been close to her, but I was too scared to even do that.

I wasn't so strong and brave after all.

And here I was in paradise. The memories of my brother floated in the sea and thoughts of Bubbles clung to my skin like sand. It all seemed like a dream sometimes. Like Grant and Boomer dying was just some horrible nightmare. Only the scars on my skin reminded me that my life in the city ever existed.

'_Do you want to forget me so badly?_' Bubbles' voice asked in my head, cutting into my thoughts with possibilities like it always did.

But I couldn't forget her. It was impossible. I'd tried. Sometimes the island felt like the greatest thing that had ever happened to me. It was an escape. A haven. But then I'd remember her again and the island seemed slightly less perfect.

Sometimes I felt it would be better if I could forget her. Memories of her and Boomer weighed on me so heavily that often times I felt I would sink and drown in the ocean from all of my guilt.

'_Don't feel guily,_' Bubbles would have told me, if she were here, as she would run her fingers up and down my back and rest her head on my shoulder. '_Fate has dealt us both a hard hand._'

I frowned and stared up at the blue sky.

I wondered what would have happened if I had been born into a rich family, if maybe I had met Bubbles sooner, or if I had stayed in the city. All this wondering made my head spin and my chest ache.

"Butch!" I heard Brick call. I was laying on the rock and I sat up to see my brother walking down the beach, Mali following him with a sort of pleased shyness. She saw me and waved. I stood up on the rock, prepared to swim to shore when I saw her cover her mouth and giggle. "Butch!" Brick yelled harshly.

I felt myself redden when I remembered I had taken off all my clothes as I often did when I went swimming. It was pointless to change every time I went into the ocean but I wasn't used to girls being around. I chuckled and waved to Mali, suddenly awkward with my nudity. I dove back into the water, hearing Brick try to explain something to Mali in broken words as she giggled.

"Idiot," Brick smiled good-naturedly as he tossed me a towel. I grinned and nodded at Mali, but she was watching Brick with something like curiosity. "Mali is joining us for dinner. Do you think you can keep your clothes on for the whole meal?"

"Do _you_?" I challenged and smiled at the knowing look Brick sent me before he turned back and slung an arm around the small girl at his side. She blushed but smiled brightly up at him.

I followed them down the beach, staring down at the sand beneath my feet. My feet were now calloused from walking barefoot in the forest and shells didn't really hurt anymore but you still had to be careful.

"What were you doing out there anyway?" Brick asked over his shoulder. "Working on your tan?"

I rolled my eyes, knowing he was slightly envious that I didn't freckle like he did and now I'd grown darker than I ever had before. We didn't have a mirror so I didn't know what I looked like now with all the months gone by, but I imagined my reflection would look wild.

"I was just thinking, that's all." I told him plainly.

There was no use wondering about all those things I couldn't change. Boomer was gone and Bubbles was half a world away and probably moving on with her life. I looked out at the water where the sun was beginning to set and then up at Brick and Mali who were speaking in low tones and laughing. How did two lucky devils like us get away from their own personal hell and into heaven?

'_Quit being so hard on yourself,_' I heard Bubbles' voice in my head, never letting me forget her. '_I love you. Remember that_.'

How could I forget?

---

"Why didn't we do this sooner?" Brick asked as he fell onto his mat. Bugs chirped outside and a bird was calling from the trees. My mother's picture of the beach fluttered in the wind that came through the door.

"Because we knew we'd miss the streets too much?" I replied sarcastically but Brick looked over at me, a slight frown on his face.

"You miss it too?" Brick asked, serious.

I waited for a moment, listening to the sound of the island around us, before replying. "Yeah." I smiled dryly. "We're both fucked up, aren't we?"

"Completely." Brick laughed.

We were silent for a moment, both thinking of the past.

"I'm thinking of telling Mali who I really am," Brick said. I looked over at him but he was staring up at the ceiling. "She's starting to understand me pretty well and I think it's about time I tell her some things. She deserves to know the truth."

"That's a mistake, Brick," I told him quickly. "She could tell the police."

"She won't," He smiled. "I think she really likes me. I don't know how I know, she will barely let me kiss her, but somehow I think she will understand."

"You really like her, don't you?" I asked although it was apparent. Brick had never paid much time on girls before now. Nothing like this.

"I want her to come live here with us," Brick said. "I could make her happy."

I sighed. There was no use trying to argue with him. I knew how he felt. No one else could have told me what to do with Bubbles. I couldn't stop him. I could only hope he didn't get left scarred and alone like me.

"When are you going to tell her?" I asked.

"Next week," He responded. "The moon will be full and I'll take her on a walk down the beach." He laughed sharply. "God, listen to me. The boys back at home would kill me for talking like this."

We grew quiet again because home was now something we rarely talked about. Home was something that only existed in our minds.

---

Brick sunk down in the sand next to me, the smell of alcohol thick on his breath and skin. He glared out at the sea. "She cried."

I said nothing.

"She fucking cried," He said bitterly. "I told her everything about our past and she cried and told me she never wanted to see me again. How could she say that? It's not like I was going to hurt her or anything."

"She doesn't know that," I told him.

"I just wanted her to know," Brick took another swing of whisky. "And now she'll never talk to me again."

"Our past isn't something that easy to understand," I reminded him and then at the tortured look he gave me I sighed. "She'll come around." I said, clapping him on the shoulder.

He shook his head. "She looked so betrayed." He took another drink. "She looked at me as if I were evil incarnated."

We were silent for a moment, both feeling slightly scorned from the girl's reaction.

"Forget her," Brick said softly, the anger suddenly gone. He sounded wounded. "I've survived worse than this."

"We both have," I agreed.

He raised up his bottle and I raised up the one I'd been drinking. "Here's to Ma and Boomer and the freedom they have now in death. They lived the same life we did and they deserve to be happy in heaven."

I frowned. We had all found freedom in one way or another. My mom and Boomer had escaped through death while Brick and I had found our own freedom on an island.

"I wonder if they're in a place like this," Brick sighed. "Heaven would look like a beach to Ma, I'm sure of it."

"I know for sure Ma is. I'm kinda worried about Boomer though," I joked. We both laughed and clinked our bottles together in a toast. I went to drink but stopped when I realized Brick had remained frozen, his eyes gazing off down the beach. I frowned and turned to see what had caught his eye.

We both watched as Mali walked towards us, the moon reflecting off her white dress that clung to her in the wind. Brick stood beside me and went to go meet her. When they reached each other she fell into his arms, brushing at his hair with her fingers and kissing at his neck.

I grinned and looked back out at the ocean, glad my brother had gotten what he wanted after all. "I guess we'll have to build another room onto the house," I muttered to myself as it seemed my own room had gained another occupant.

They both came to stand before me after a moment. "Hello," Mali smiled and said with a thick accent.

I nodded back at her and then to my brother I raised up my bottle. "To family," I toasted.

He smiled. "To freedom," He took a drink. And then he laughed and spun, lifting his girl slightly off the ground and she laughed as pretty as she looked.

I laid back in the cool white sand, the millions of stars strewn out above me. I felt small in their wake and I breathed out, quietly, "And here's to you, Bubbles," as the stars glittered above me unlike I've ever seen in my life. Her laugh echoed in my mind, much better than any star or freedom, and I closed my eyes and began to drift off to dreams where she would be beside me in the sand and for once I would truly be in paradise.

---

_When the shadows of this life have gone,  
I'll fly away;  
Like a bird from prison bars has flown,  
I'll fly away (I'll fly away)_

_---_

**Okay, so the next chapter will be the last. It will also be the epilogue. Thanks so much to all of you for waiting for my updates, even though they take forever! I hope you liked this chapter even though it was short and not much happened. **


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